The Tangled Web of Life
by Loveedith
Summary: A whimsical story, with mixed chronology and muddled points of view. With a slightly AU version of the Edith/Anthony wedding in 1920. Except that, I try to keep to what happens in the show. But most of this story is about things before and after, mostly Anthony's parents and other relatives. Chapter 52: Edith's and Anthony's long overdue wedding night pleasures.
1. Sarah Hatfield's ball

Sir Anthony Strallan was the result of a long gaze across the ballroom of the Hatfields' London residence at the débutante ball for their daughter Lady Sarah during the London season of 1863. The gaze was, of course, exchanged by his parents, Sir Jonathan Strallan and Lady Elizabeth Kempell.

This ball took place more than ten years before Sir Anthony was actually conceived, but it is still fair to say that it eventually resulted in his birth. Because if Lady Elizabeth hadn't caught Sir Jonathan's eye in that moment, and held it so fearlessly, without a giggle or a blush, Sir Jonathan might never have fallen in love with her in that reckless way. He was already a man in his middle forties, and found it increasingly ridiculous that he was still invited to those débutante balls as an eligible bachelor. Every year the new eighteen-year-olds seemed more silly and childlike to him, he was sure that he would never feel tempted to marry any one of them. If he had wanted to marry an eighteen-year-old he could have done so when he was twenty-something, and as stupid and immature as they were.

What had really been in that first intent gaze across the ballroom from his future wife remained a mystery to Anthony's father. By the time that lady looked at him he had already been watching her with ever-increasing interest for a full ten minutes without her noticing him. She was very tall and very slim, almost skinny, and probably a bit more than six feet tall. At least she was taller than all the other women and most of the men in the room, most likely including Sir Jonathan Strallan himself, who was considered a rather tall man, since he was almost six feet one.

She was really different from all the other women in the room. She stood talking to two younger and shorter girls, probably some kind of relatives. They had almost the same hair colour, but nothing of her imposing height. They were cute, ordinary, beautiful young girls and not a bit interesting. She, on the other hand, was a breathtaking beauty. She was unusually pale, colourless in a colourful way. Her skin was pale, her hair was a pale blond and her dress a very pale yellow. She had a long, straight, aristocratic nose, blue eyes and rather a big mouth, almost as pale as her skin. She was quite a bit older than those other two girls, although she was certainly not old enough to be their mother.

The moment when she at last looked at him and smiled he knew he was lost. Nothing that had ever happened to him in this life compared to meeting that wry smile and that steady gaze in those deep, blue eyes. He hadn't noticed how unbelievably blue her eyes were until he was holding their gaze. For a moment he was transfixed. The next moment he decided that she was going to be his.

He ought to have someone introduce him to her, but he had never seen the lady before, and didn't know who to ask. So he simply went over the floor, never taking his eyes from her steady gaze and bumping into more than one dancing couple on his way.

He hadn't made up his mind about exactly what to say to her once he got there. The most natural thing was perhaps to greet her and pretend that he thought he had met her before somewhere, and then apologize for his mistake and introduce himself. But that would imply that there was another woman in the world looking like her, and he was fairly positive there wasn't. And he really didn't want to start their relationship with a lie either.

So he just blurted out what first came to his mind, which of course also happened to be the thing that worried him most.

"Are you married?"

His question was a pleasant surprise to Lady Elizabeth, who had wondered which one of her two much younger and decidedly more good-looking sisters that this rather handsome but no longer young gentleman was going to ask her if he could dance with. For a moment she considered asking him if that question was intended as a proposal, but she thought better of it. Maybe he wouldn't understand that she was joking, after all she had never seen this man before and had no idea who he was. And he really was acting a little strangely.

"No, I'm not married", she just answered, quite simply.

"Good!" he said, while his already handsome face was lit up by the most gorgeous smile of relief. She found him even more attractive when he smiled. He was blond with a rather broad jawline and friendly blue eyes that were sparkling by now. He was quite tall, but probably still a little bit shorter than her, maybe half an inch or so. At least she wasn't looking down on him, which often happened to her when she stood close to a man and which made most men feel uneasy.

He just stood there smiling at her, obviously happy but lost for words. So she thought she should dare to ask him the same question.

"What about you? Are you married?"

And so it came about that Sir Anthony's parents knew each other's marital status before they knew each other's names. They used to joke about this start of their first meeting later on, of how they had managed to sort out the most important things first.

...

A/N: Thank you for reading!


	2. Dancing

Sir Jonathan Strallan and Lady Elizabeth Kempell were smiling awkwardly at each other for a while. None of them managed to say another word, somehow. Now that they knew that they were both unmarried and both interested in whether or not the other one was married, they felt somewhat uneasy. Perhaps they had gotten a little too personal a little too fast. There were so many promises and worries in what all this could mean for the future.

So perhaps it was as well that they were then interrupted in a not entirely polite way by Lady Hatfield, their hostess and Sarah Hatfield's mother.

"There you are, Sir Jonathan! I want you to come and dance with my daughter!" she said and dragged him by the arm. "I'm sure you don't mind", she said in an aside to Lady Elizabeth, whose name she had already forgotten, although she had written her invitation card.

So his name was Jonathan, Elizabeth thought. Sir Jonathan. It was a nice name, but she had really expected something a little more dramatic for such a dramatic personality.

"One moment, Lady Hatfield", Sir Jonathan said and turned back to the beautiful lady, whose name he still didn't know. He leaned in - but rather up than down - and whispered in her ear: "Please don't marry anyone else!"

The only answer he got to that was a short laugh. And to his delight it was rather a guffaw than a giggle. Then Lady Hatfield dragged him away.

For the next hour or so Sir Jonathan Strallan was presented to and more or less forced to dance with most of the new débutantes of that year. He was a very polite man, and couldn't really find any excuse to get out of this yearly tradition, although he was sure these little girls were as little interested in him as he was in them.

The first one he danced with was of course Lady Sarah Hatfield, the young lady of the house. Then there was Lady Lovisa Mincraft, Lady Vera Locklass, Lady Lydia Applephine, Lady Emily Dansley, Lady Ethel Finnsdale and Lady Mary Coolblake. The last one was a Lady Violet something-or-other, Lady Roberta's little sister. This last girl proved hard to get rid of, she was clinging to his arm in the most possessive way, laughing and talking and leaning into him, even though the dance was long since over.

Sir Jonathan looked around for that tall, beautiful lady, hoping that he would see her somewhere and at the same time hoping that she wouldn't see him so embarrassingly close to this giggling young girl. He didn't see the lady anywhere, but he _did_ see Lord Patrick Crawley, his neighbour from Yorkshire, and wondered if he could use him to get off this hook. So he introduced him to the girl on his arm.

"This is Lord Patrick Crawley, the future Earl of Grantham, and this is Lady Violet..." He coughed a couple of times, he just couldn't remember her last name. "She is Lady Roberta's sister."

And for some reason this worked magic, the irritating girl let go of his arm at once and looked up at Patrick Crawley with admiration in her eyes. Obviously she had found a bigger fish to fry.

So he went in search of the woman of his dreams, feeling a little ashamed of leaving young Patrick to deal with that horrible girl.

Sir Jonathan was worried that he had lost that exciting Lady by now, maybe she had simply gone home. He couldn't see her anywhere and he didn't even know her name. He was a little afraid that he had scared her away with his enthusiasm. But at least she had laughed, he had made her laugh. So he hoped she wasn't too embarrassed by his behavior.

At last he found her in one of the smaller rooms, playing cards with some other ladies. She was just shuffling the deck of cards. He looked at her with silent admiration for a short while. She was every bit as wonderful as he had thought before. He had been right from the very beginning!

Soon she looked up at him with those incredibly blue eyes. She smiled when she saw him, and he gave her a broad, happy smile in return.

A triumphant feeling filled his chest when he saw her put down the cards and mutter something apologetic to the other ladies around the table before she got up and moved towards him.

This time he had prepared in advance what he would say. It was perhaps not the most original phrase to get a woman's attention, but it had to do.

"Would you care to dance?"

...

A/N:

Anyone who knows Lady Violet's maiden name?

I have fun making up names, buth I don't think I have the right to make up one for Lady Violet.

Thank you for reading!


	3. The Oldest Débutante

A/N: I was going to write a chapter about Lady Violet and Patrick Crawley. Instead I ended up writing more fluff about Anthony's parents. I have made these two up and totally fallen in love with them, I'm afraid.

...

Lady Elizabeth never told Sir Jonathan exactly what was going through her head when she gazed at him for the first time across that dance floor. One reason for this was that by the time she got to know him well enough to dare tell him such things he had already for quite some time been nurturing the myth that their gaze was one of mutual love at first sight, and she loved him too much to take him out of that delusion. The other reason was that she didn't know for sure herself. If it wasn't love she was feeling during those floating moments when he was coming across the ballroom to her and she was looking so steadily into his friendly blue eyes, it was definitely something very close to love.

But Lady Elizabeth had thought that Sir Jonathan was interested in one of the two sisters she was chaperoning to that ball. She hadn't seen that he had been looking at _her_ with such delight for such a long time, so she jumped to the wrong conclusion, just like every one else around her would have done. The conclusion that she was quite inferior to her sisters when it came to beauty, and that no man would look at her twice when her sisters were around.

And maybe it was lucky that she had thought so. Because if she had known it was _her_ he was interested in, she might not have been able to meet his gaze so fearlessly. She might have looked down and blushed or even giggled, though she didn't do that often. And a giggle might well have broken the enchantment between the two of them.

If that had happened, Sir Jonathan Strallan might have remained a grumpy old bachelor for the rest of his life, having new generations of débutantes told that he was still a good catch. The next couple of years they would be told that he was a little too old though, and later on that he was very much too old. Lady Elizabeth Kempell herself would have settled still deeper into her role of a useful old maid, taking care of her parents in their old age and never knowing what it was like to make love to a man. Sir Anthony Strallan and his older sister would never have been born. And Lady Edith Crawley would never have been invited to that concert in York.

Lady Elizabeth was thirty-four years old and had never got much attention from men. Well, not much _positive_ attention at least. Since she was a little over six feet one, she was a bit too tall to go unnoticed, and quite used to men recoiling or flinching when they came closer to her and saw how tall she really was.

In fact the words going through lady Elizabeth's mind when she saw Sir Jonathan coming towards her, dividing the dancers like Moses divided the water of the Red Sea, was something along these lines: 'You old fool! You see a pretty face and you make such an exhibition of yourself.'

When she later understood that the pretty face he was chasing after was in fact her own and the exhibition all for her benefit, she suddenly found his behaviour quite endearing for some reason. She thought that he was both quite adorable and very funny.

'You old fool!' is perhaps not the most affectionate thought to have going through your head when you first set eyes on the greatest love of your life. At least it dosen't sound like love at first sight. But he was eleven years older than her after all, so in this case the word old can perhaps be excused. And the word fool - it was really every bit as foolish to chase after her as it was to chase after one of her sisters. At least it was _almost_ as foolish, because she was older, and not young enough to be his daughter. But still, the only thing he knew about her by then was her looks.

Even if she had thought him an old fool, her thoughts about him had really been mingled with affection from the very start. She thought he looked like a nice man, as well as a handsome one. So maybe it had been love at first sight for her as well, after all.

She had disliked very much to see him dancing with all those young girls. She tried to laugh at herself, being so possessive of a man she had just met and barely spoken ten words to. He had only asked her if she was married, he hadn't asked her to marry him. But the fact that she had no right to him made it still harder to see him dancing with those young beauties. So when Lady Roberta wanted to drag her away to the card-tables in another room, she was only too happy to obey.

But why was she looking so anxiously towards the doorway to the ballroom while she was playing? Why was she playing cards so badly, without her usual wit and circumspection? Why wasn't she making a few bad jokes, as she usually did during this type of gatherings?

And why did she smile and put down the deck of cards she was shuffling the moment she saw him? Why did she leave the table at once to go to him?

If this wasn't love, then what was it? she had to ask herself.

When she stood there before him, he seemed a little embarrassed, but he smiled at her and asked her if she would like to dance.

"I would like that very much", she said simply.

"Good!", he said again, with a new gorgeous smile of relief.

"I have never danced at a ball in London", she added. "So I'm a débutante myself, even if I'm so much older than those young girls"

"Well it's upon time you do then", he said with a new smile. "And I'm delighted and honored that you agree to do it with me."

And so they did, they danced together. And every time the music stopped playing they stood smiling at each other, unable to speak and drowning in each other's blue eyes. And when the music started playing again they danced again, quite oblivious that there were other people in the room.

So when the music started playing for their tenth dance, the rumours were out that Sir Jonathan Strallan, that eternal bachelor, had finally been captured by a lady. And that the lady who had reined him in was that ridiculously tall and quite plain eldest daughter of the Kempells, who had been away to India for the last twenty years. The lady was said to be forty years if she was a day and only invited to the ball as a chaperon to her two young sisters.

No one thought that this would last. Maybe a week, at the most.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! And thank you for all the lovely reviews!


	4. Interlude: Lady Violet, 1920

It had been a tiring day. Up at Downton the preparations for the wedding the next day between Edith and Sir Anthony Strallan were in full swing. And Lady Violet wasn't happy about it at all.

She was tossing in her bed, unable to sleep. Dreading what the future would be like for her favourite granddaughter.

Suddenly her thoughts returned to that ball almost sixty years ago. That was the first time she met Strallan - that is the older Strallan, Sir Jonathan, Sir Anthony's father. And more important, it was the first time she met Patrick Crawley, her late husband. She liked to think back on those glorious days, when she could rely on her good looks, her conversational skill and her charm to get whatever man she wanted. Those were the best days of her life, she had so enjoyed it!

It was Violet's very first débutante ball. Sarah Hatfield's ball, if she remembered it right. She had gone to quite a few balls that season, and the following few seasons until she and Patrick married. But since this was the first one, it was the one she remembered best.

Her sister Roberta, who had returned from India with her husband the same year, was going with her to the ball. Roberta was full of good advice and information about the ball and all the bachelors who were expected to be there.

"Always go for the eldest son", Roberta had advised her. "He will usually get the title, the money and the estate."

Roberta herself had not lived up to her own advice. She had married a rather dashing third son of an earl, so he was neither the heir nor the spare. So he had been forced to make a living for himself and his family by going into military service. Dashing-ness in a man was a nice thing to have in bed, but wasn't really equal to a large country estate, a title and a big house with many servants.

Roberta had enjoyed going to India and living in that hot, strange country. But Violet was not as adventurous as her older sister. For Violet the life as the Lady of the house of a large country house seemed much more enjoyable than travelling around the world. She couldn't imagine anything more dreadful than living in a country full of foreigners. So Violet listened carefully to what Roberta had to say. And since she was a quick learner she remembered all the names of the eligible bachelors that Roberta was telling her about.

Patrick Crawley was one of them. Jonathan Strallan was another.

According to Roberta Patrick Crawley was one of the best catches that were likely to appear on this ball. He was going to became an earl, and his family's estate was really, really large. The house was called Downton Abbey, and it looked almost like the Houses of Parliament, although it was of course not quite as big. The only problem with Patrick was that both his parents were alive and healthy, so it would take some time until he would inherit it all.

Jonathan Strallan, on the other hand, was only a baronet, but already the owner of Locksley. Which was a much smaller house, maybe a quarter of the size of Downton Abbey. His mother had died as well, so there was no risk of a nasty mother-in-law. But Sir Jonathan was old, forty-five or something like that. He had danced with most of the débutantes for some twenty-five years, now he was dancing with the daughters of the young girls he had danced with in his youth. Some of the mothers and some of the girls had really made an effort to get him, but he didn't even notice. He would probably never marry.

Strallan! What kind of name was that! Lady Violet had giggled when she first heard it. But it was something of a challenge to try to catch a man who just wasn't interested. Just for fun, not to marry of course. Too old, and besides she wasn't going to marry at all this season. She wanted to have some fun before she settled down.

So when Lady Violet was introduced to Sir Jonathan Strallan she knew exactly who he was. That's why she stayed on with him after they had danced, talking sweetly to him. He seemed happily surprised by this, he probably hadn't expected to have the most beautiful girl in the room at his arm, Violet thought. She noticed that he looked around, probably he wanted everyone to see that she was with him. Violet enjoyed herself, but she didn't really like him all that much.

Then Sir Jonathan introduced her to Patrick Crawley, probably to boast to his friend about having her at his arm. Without thinking Violet quickly dropped Jonathan's arm as soon as she heard who this young man was. She had been so young and inexperienced then! She wished she had hold on to Sir Jonathan's arm for a little longer, that she had played out the two men against each other. She wished she had given Strallan at least some hope.

Because she was sure she had broken Sir Jonathan's heart right there, leaving him for Patrick like that. Why else would he have been so desperate? Desperate enough to go courting that ... old giraffe. Lady Violet giggled at her own joke. Lady Elizabeth was really too tall. And too pale to be dressed in yellow. And too old to dance at a débutante's ball.

But Lady Elizabeth and Sir Jonathan really had danced. That had been the scandal of that ball, the two of them dancing together. Dancing and dancing, until the evening was over and the music ceased. It was so ridiculous, both of them being so old, and her being noticeably taller than him, although he was rather a tall man himself.

But if only she herself had played her cards a little better, the Strallans would never have got together on that ball, Lady Violet thought with regret. Then they would never have married and Sir Anthony would never have been born. And her dear Edith would have been safe from that dreadful man.

There are such small coincidences that rule one's life...

And she still couldn't sleep.

...

AN: Next chapter will be in 1863 and about Anthony's parents again.

Thank you for reading! And thank you very, very much for all the nice reviews!


	5. A good catch

"I still don't know your name", Sir Jonathan said when the music stopped playing and they stopped dancing for the evening.

"Well,_ I_ know _your_ name, Sir Jonathan Strallan", she said to his great surprise.

"How did you find that out?" he asked with a bewildered smile.

"Lady Hatfield called you Sir Jonathan, so I asked the ladies at the card table and they filled in the rest."

"Oh, I see."

"Every time a man tells me not to marry anyone else, I try to check if his last name is worth having."

His chin fell. "Does that happen often?" he blurted out.

"Well, actually you are the first man who ever asked me not to marry", she answered with a mischievous smile.

He didn't know how to answer that. He couldn't ask her what she thought of his last name, if it _was_ worth having. That would sound too much like a proposal. He was sensing he was getting too far out already. Of course he _was_ going to propose to her sooner or later. But he would like to get to know her a little better first. And still more important, since he was loving her more every moment he spent with her and didn't have many doubts left, he wanted to give _her_ a chance to get to know _him_.

"Don't be afraid", she said with a soft smile when she saw how worried he looked. "I didn't take anything of what you said as a proposal, I thought you were joking. So I joked a little myself. And I quite like your name. It suits you."

He didn't know how to answer that either, so he let it drop. But it sounded like if she had read his thoughts, which was both unsettling and wonderful.

"They _did_ tell me you were a good catch, though", she continued with a defiant smile.

"Really? Do ladies talk like that? About me?" He was quite surprised, almost a little shocked.

"What do you think those balls are meant for really? Of course the ladies discuss the available men. And they _did_ tell me you were unmarried, so I could have spared myself the embarrassment of asking you in person." She gave him a wry smile.

"I don't know if I am exactly available..."

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife," she said as if it was something she had made up on the spur of the moment. He was happy that he was well-read enough to recognise it, because otherwise he would have wondered what on earth she was on about.

"This truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters", he added. He wasn't sure he had got all the words right, but he was sure it was something like that.

"A man who can quote Jane Austen, you are full of surprises!" This time her smile was one of admiration. And something else that he hoped was adoration, though he wasn't sure.

She had so many different ways to smile, and so many different facial expressions. That was one of the things about her that had fascinated him when he stood looking at her across the ballroom those ten or fifteen minutes before she noticed him. She had only been talking and joking with those other two ladies, but so many different expressions had run across her face during that short time. He had thought that he could never grow tired of looking at a face like that. And that was before she fixed her gaze on him with those incredibly blue eyes...

"Did those ladies tell you anything else about me?" he asked.

"Apparently you have a big house in the country that looks like it is built out of gingerbread. Like the one in the fairy tale, Hansel and Gretel."

He laughed. "Gingerbread! I'm afraid you will be disappointed when you see it. It is brown and white, but gingerbread... It is not so very big either. And you can't eat it, I'm afraid. You'll destroy your teeth."

Suddenly the two young ladies she had been talking to earlier came running to fetch her.

"Come at once! Henrik is here to pick us up, and he says we must hurry", the first one said.

"We haven't told him that you have found a beau", the second added. "But if you don't come, we will." The young girl smiled apologetically at Jonathan and started dragging her away by the arm.

She turned back to him in a hurry, smiling again: "Thank you for tonight! It has been truly wonderful! All of it has! You are ever so funny!" she said breathlessly, while the two younger ladies dragged her away.

And then she was gone. They were gone, all three of them.

For a brief, horrible moment he thought that this Henrik, who oughtn't be told about Jonathan, was her husband. She was too young to be the mother of the two girls, but maybe they were her sisters or his sisters. But he knew almost at once that she couldn't be married. She wouldn't have danced with him like that, so openly and for such a long time, if she had been married. And also, she had told him she wasn't, and he wanted to believe her words.

He suddenly realised that he still didn't know her name. He had danced with her all evening, but he didn't know her name. He didn't know where she lived, and he didn't know why he had never met her before or where she had been all those last years. Because London society wasn't all that big. And if he _had_ met her before he was certain he would never have forgotten her.

He would probably see her again on the next ball, which was only five days away, but that was not what he wanted. He wanted to see her tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. And the day after that.

And all the rest of the days - and after their wedding also the rest of the nights - of his life.

But tonight she was gone, and it was late. There was nothing more he could do now. The servants had started to clean up the ballroom. He had better go back to his London residence, go to bed, have some sleep. If he was lucky he might even dream of her, if not he still had the scent of her on his hands and his clothes. Tomorrow he would find out who she really was. After that he would ask her out, and with any luck she would answer yes. If she didn't he wouldn't know what to do. He had known her for just a few hours, and he couldn't bear the thought of loosing her. Even though he really didn't have her in the first place.

I love you, he thought, so much that it hurts. I want you so terribly.

Whatever your name is.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! And thank you ever so much for your reviews!

3:5 aired in Sweden yesterday. I am still more upset by Anthony jilting Edith than by that. Because dying in childbirth isn't out of character.

The Jane Austen quotes are of course (?) from the beginning of Pride and Prejudice. I haven't dared to change a word of that author's work, let's just say that Sir Jonathan has a remarkable memory.

And I envy everybody who hasn't read that book yet, or seen any of the films.


	6. A Nice Enough Man

Henrik Kempell's house was not far from the Hatfield's residence. During the short ride in the carriage Elizabeth's two sisters, Celia and Christin, where chatting along about the ball, telling their elder brother all the details. They talked about the music, the candle-light, the beautiful gowns the ladies were dressed in. They talked about the men that had danced with them. But they said nothing about Elizabeth and Jonathan.

Elizabeth herself was unusually quiet. She didn't understand what had really happened to her, so she just sat there wondering, not certain what to think about this strange man. When she had been with him, when they had danced together, she had been so sure. Sure that she wanted this, sure that she wanted to be near him. But now she was full of doubts. What did he want with her? And what did she want with him?

When they got back to Henrik's place the two younger sisters went straight to bed. Henrik had sensed that Elizabeth was unusually taciturn, so he asked her to stay up for a cup of tea. His wife and his children were already in bed.

Henrik was Elizabeth's eldest brother, only a year younger than herself. During their childhood they had been very close, playing together, sharing all their secrets. When the family had moved to India, Henrik had remained at school in England. She had been fifteen then, he had been fourteen. The following nineteen years they had hardly seen each other at all. Henrik had been to India a couple of times over the years, but Elizabeth had never been back to England until now. Henrik and Elizabeth still felt a little awkward together, the three sisters had arrived only a couple of days earlier.

"What is the matter? Didn't you have a good time?" he asked softly.

"I had a very good time. But...that is exactly the problem."

She thought about it for a while before she went on. When Henrik had courted Louisa he had written a long letter to Elizabeth, telling her of all his feelings and doubts, and she had answered him in a reassuring way. When her letter had arrived, Henrik's doubts were already gone and he was engaged to Louisa, but he had still appreciated his sister's support. So she felt it was only right to tell him of her own problems.

"Do you know a man called Sir Jonathan Strallan?" she started.

"Yes I do. Not very well though, he is more than ten years older than me, I think, so we weren't at school together or anything. Why do you ask?"

"He danced with me."

"Don't let that go to your head! He dances with everybody, at least all the débutantes. He is the oldest bachelor to go to those balls, so all the young girls think it's fun to dance with him, and he is too polite to say no."

"He danced with me for more than two hours."

"He did? Really?"

"And I didn't ask him to. It was his own idea. He asked me and I said yes. And then we just kept dancing all evening until the music stopped."

"Well, maybe you _should_ let it go to your head, then! Honestly, I have never heard of him doing something like that before."

They were both quiet for a while, sipping at their tea, contemplating the bottoms of their teacups. Wondering about Jonathan Strallan and his unusual behaviour.

"Why do you think he did that? You don't think he was making fun of me?" she asked finally.

"No, he would never do that, he is a kind man. I think it sounds more like he was falling in love with you."

"Really? But how could he? He hardly knows me. And I am so plain." The last words she uttered with a sigh.

"Don't underestimate yourself, Elizabeth. Plain is the last thing you are! You look quite startling, you are definitely not the kind of woman that nobody will notice."

Henrik himself had married a plump little woman with a face like a porcelain doll's. She and the tall, skinny Elizabeth with her marked features were so unlike each other that it was at all possible for two people to be.

Elizabeth was silent for a while again, thinking that her brother was only trying to be nice to her.

"I told him he was funny", she said then.

"Really?" Henrik sounded a little surprised.

"But he was! He told me I couldn't eat his house because I would destroy my teeth."

To her delight Henrik laughed out loud, so she laughed with him. She felt she was beginning to get her brother back.

"That is just like him. His jokes are a little strange", Henrik added when he had stopped laughing.

"I really don't know what to do. I'm not sure at all of how I feel about him. Or how he feels about me."

"But you must have liked him quite a lot if you danced with him for so long."

"I do. I did. It was like a fairy tale. He is so handsome. But it feels like it wasn't really real." She suddenly smiled at the memory.

"I think I have reason to be happy for you", he said when he saw the way she smiled.

"Yes, I think you do. Whatever happens, I had a wonderful time. Even if nothing more will come of it, I still had this evening."

"Wait till you get to know him a little better. Then you will know, perhaps. I really wouldn't mind it if the two of you... He is a nice enough man. And I would like it if you were to stay in England."

"He asked me if I was married", she mumbled.

"What! He asked you to marry him! Just like that?"

"No, he didn't. Just if I _was_ married. But he _did_ ask me not to marry anyone else, though." She smiled again, broader this time. "He really _is_ funny!"

...

AN: Thank you for reading! And many thanks for your reviews!

"Sir Anthony seems nice enough" (Matthew Crawley, Downton Abbey 1:5)


	7. The Woman of his Dreams

While Henrik and Elizabeth were discussing Sir Jonathan Strallan over a cup of tea, the man himself was having his own late cup of tea alone in the library of his London house. If he had known that Lady Elizabeth was at that very moment talking about him with her brother, he had probably been both surprised and embarrassed, and maybe a little bit flattered also. But how could he have known it, he didn't even know that her name was Elizabeth. And he didn't know that she was Henrik Kempell's sister.

Sir Jonathan himself had no idea what it was like to have a brother or a sister. Lady Elizabeth was a part of a big, loud, loving family. Sir Jonathan was the only child of two people who were themselves the only child in their respective families. So he had been very much doted on. He had grown up as the centre of the world, for his two parents as well as his four grandparents. All these six people, who loved and adored him and whom he loved and adored, had passed away one after the other over the years. By now he had no family at all, not even an aunt or an uncle.

So why hadn't he married, tried to start a family of his own? He had often wondered that over the years. But not any longer, he knew it now. He hadn't married before because he hadn't met _her_ before. It was as simple as that.

He loved her so very much. He was almost forty-five, and love had hit him like it had never hit him before. And he couldn't stop smiling.

He didn't know where he had found the courage to go and get that beautiful lady when he saw her across the ballroom. Because that was exactly what he had done, in a nice way of course. Decided that he should have her, and gone over to claim her. He was still a little surprised by his own determination, he had never done anything remotely similar to that before. But he had done it, he actually had, without a moments hesitation. And she had been as charming as she was beautiful. But of course, he didn't have her yet. Even though that young relative of hers had called him her beau. And she herself hadn't denied that, at least not while he could hear it.

He was thinking back on the evening, feeling tired but happy. He was rather a lonely man, so he used to enjoy those balls anyway, because of the music, the colours and the people. But this time had been special. So very special!

But he really wished she had told him her name.

How do you go about to find a woman whose name you don't know? In 1863 the possible means of communication were limited to letters and visiting. It was an easy choice. Letters would be too slow, and he didn't really know what to write in them, so he decided to go visiting.

It was quite embarrassing that he had managed to dance with her for such a long time without being able to find out her name. He ought to have asked her between the dances, of course. But standing so close to her, looking into her wonderful eyes, he had forgotten everything else. And besides, he had known he wouldn't be able to hold his voice steady.

So he'd rather not go visiting people who had been to that ball and would know that he had danced with her like that. Because they could think she had avoided to tell him her name, because she didn't want to, because she wanted to get rid of him. But that was not the way it was at all, and he knew that for sure. Because she had told him that it had been 'truly wonderful'. The thought of that made him smile again.

So he made a list of people he knew who hadn't been at the ball - at least he hadn't seen them there - planning to go visiting them in the morning. It would still be awkward to get around to the subject. First talk about the weather or something like that for a while, then "By the way, I saw three blond ladies at the Hatfield's ball yesterday, do you know who they could be? Why I ask? Oh, no reason at all. Only curious."

Perhaps he should just say: "I want to marry that tall beautiful blond woman, so it would be nice to know her name and where I can find her." That would be honest at least, but he was sure he couldn't say something like that. Besides, she ought to be the first person to hear that he wanted to marry her.

He put down seven names on that list of people. Henrik Kempell was one of them.

Afterwards, after he found out who she really was, Sir Jonathan had wondered why on earth he hadn't grasped it right then, when he wrote down Henrik's name. That girl had after all said something about not telling _Henrik_ something or other. And some months ago he had actually heard someone talking about Henrik Kempell having his sisters over from India for the London season. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, because he didn't know then that it was the most interesting piece of gossip he would ever hear. So he didn't make the connection, obvious as it might seem afterwards. His head must have been all muddled up.

When the list was finished he went straight to bed. At long last he managed to fall asleep. He also managed to dream about dancing with her, maybe because he had spent such a long time doing just that. But the dream wasn't happy, at least not entirely happy, she kept slipping away from him in the most dangerous places.

When morning came he was more determined than ever to find her. After he had his breakfast he put down another two names on that list.

This might be a very long day, Sir Jonathan thought with a small sigh. Probably with all too many cups of tea!

But he kept smiling like a Cheshire cat.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you even more for reviewing!

I enjoy writing this story so much.

It is nice to write about a couple who even JF thinks ought to end up happily married. Or at least married.

Historical accuracy: I am not at all good at researching. I know nothing about what débutante balls were like in 1863, only that they existed. I'd rather tell a story - or write some fluff - than write a history book. But I'm perfectly OK and happy with having any historical inaccuracies pointed out, if anyone should feel inclined to do so!


	8. Interlude: Lady Violet, 1920, again

Lady Violet Crawley, Dowager Countess of Grantham, was the most successful of all the eighteen-year-old débutantes of the 1863 season in London. At least she considered herself so. She was, after all, the only one of all those girls who had married an earl, or at least a future earl, since Patrick's father was still alive when they married.

But time isn't kind to anyone. Almost sixty years had gone by and no one remained the same. That night in 1920, the night before Edith's wedding, when Lady Violet was in her bed thinking about her glorious youth, she was suddenly feeling very old and very lonely.

So many of the people who had been to that ball were dead. Patrick had passed away, of course. Sir Jonathan Strallan was also dead. So was that tall Lady Elizabeth whatever-her-name-was, who was later to become Lady Elizabeth Strallan. Lady Elizabeth's two young sisters had also died. Her own sister Roberta, who had accompanied her as a chaperon, and told her about the different men at the ball, had died long ago. And all the older people, mothers and fathers and other relatives, were also dead, of course.

Lady Violet was the only one left of the fifteen or so eighteen-year-old débutantes who had attended that ball. Sarah Hatfield herself had died of pneumonia just a few years later. Lovisa Maincraft had died after giving birth to her third child. Vera Locklass had died in the Spanish flu. Lydia Applephine had passed away in some kind of heart-failure. Emily Dansley had died of cancer, and so had Ethel Finnsdale. Mary Coolblake had managed to get herself run down by a car, just a year ago. That was at least a very modern way to go! There had been a couple of others, whose name she didn't remember, and one or two of them could possibly be alive. But there was actually not a single person from that ball that she really knew was alive, except for herself.

It was a strange thought. In 1920 she was actually the only one she knew who was still living of all the people who had been to that ball in 1863.

Lady Violet was only seventy-five years old, so it was quite possible that she had fifteen or even twenty years more to live. But sometimes she felt like all of her contemporaries had already left this world. That she was the only survivor from a sunken ship. That the world had changed, and nothing was like it ought to be any longer.

All the younger people, all her children and grandchildren, none of them ever cared about what she said.

Tomorrow Edith would marry someone Lady Violet really disapproved of. But hadn't they all?

Robert had married Cora Levinson. An american with no title, no culture and no tradition. When there were so many nice aristocratic British girls to be had. And had it turned out well? Not very, Cora had failed at the most important issue, to bear a living son. Something that Violet herself had succeeded to do in her first attempt. But maybe that had nothing to do with Cora being American, Violet had to admit. After all, there were boys born in America too.

Rosamund had married Marmaduke Painswick. A vulgar man with plenty of money, but that was all he had. No title, no manners, no nothing.

And then Sybil had topped it all by marrying Tom Branson...There simply were no words for that.

On the other hand, there was Mary of course. The only one who had really married the one Violet had told her to. Even if Matthew was very middle class, he was at least the future Earl of Grantham. It was a little strange that Mary, of all her children and grandchildren, had been the most obedient to Violet's wishes when it came to choosing a husband or a wife. But of course, Mary would probably have married Matthew with or without Lady Violet's approval. Mary loved Matthew and Mary loved Downton. Not necessarily in that order.

They had all of them done what they themselves had wanted, none of them had cared a bit about what Lady Violet thought.

So why should Edith be any different?

There was nothing she could do to stop Edith from marrying this awful Anthony Strallan. Violet had never liked his father, and his mother had been simply ghastly. Ugly, unladylike, bossy. Maybe that was what came from being the oldest of seven, or was it eight, siblings. Roberta had met them in India, they had been a strange lot all of them, according to her. But Lady Elizabeth was perhaps the strangest of them all.

And now that strange ladie's strange son, who was already an old man and a cripple as well, was going to marry Edith. To make her his drudge. It was infuriating.

And the strangest thing about it all, the fact that Violet had great difficulties even to admit to herself, was that it was quite obvious that Edith was happy.

...

AN: Many thanks for reading! Still more thanks for reviewing!

I don't really know where this story is going. But the next couple of chapters will at least be about Anthony's parents again.


	9. Lady Elizabeth

A man wants his wife to be younger, more beautiful, less intelligent and shorter than he is himself. At least that was what Lady Elizabeth Kempell thought.

Lady Elizabeth had great problems with all these four things. In her youth she had at least been younger than most unmarried men she met, but by now she was usually older than them as well.

The other three things were still more difficult.

She knew she wasn't considered a beauty, she even knew that many people thought that she was downright ugly. So, perhaps, it wasn't all that strange that she thought Sir Jonathan was making fun of her, running after her like that. But, as we all know, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And Sir Jonathan would have been very sad if he had known she was thinking something like that, he would have been very surprised and very sad. If he had heard anyone say that Elizabeth was ugly or even plain, he would have been upset. He was convinced that everybody thought her as breathtakingly beautiful as he did himself. And he stayed in that delusion for the rest of his life, because no one dared to say a bad word about her to him, once it was obvious what he felt about her. Which, as we have seen, was obvious almost from the beginning.

On top of that Lady Elizabeth was also an unusually intelligent woman. She was a very good card-player and she beat anyone at chess. She beat Sir Jonathan four times out of five when they played together later on, which was a better score than anyone else had ever had on her. Maybe it was because he was a good player himself, maybe it was just because she found him so attractive. Sitting there opposite her fiancé and later her husband, she had quite some problems concentrating. Because sometimes she was thinking less about chess and more about a very different kind of game they could have played instead.

She had been a teacher for all her younger siblings. She had taught them how to read and write. She had also taught them French and German and geography and history and biology and mathematics. Some of these subjects she hadn't known herself to begin with, so she had started by learning them herself from books. All the boys had been sent home to England for school later on, and they had all found that their sister's teaching had been quite up to standard. Except her French pronunciation, which all their new teachers of French first laughed at and then corrected.

She had developed a life-long interest for mathematics from that. She had ordered books far beyond what was required for her brothers' school preparation, and kept reading about it just for fun. None of her siblings had had the same interest, and it had made her the object of some ridicule among the English in India. She ought to concentrate in finding a husband instead, they had said. Studying mathematics was really not the thing to do to get a man interested, quite the contrary.

There wasn't many men that were taller than Lady Elizabeth either. For some reason nature - or whatever it is that decides things like that - had determined to make her taller than all women and most men and also taller than all her siblings. She was the oldest, so it was no wonder she started out tallest. That she stayed taller than her two sisters even after they grew up was perhaps not so strange either, but none of her four grownup brothers managed to become taller than her either. All four of them were almost the same height, six-foot tall or a little more, but noticeably less than six-foot one, which she was noticeably taller than.

If little Anthony, their youngest brother, hadn't died, he might have been the one to grow taller than her. When he died from that strange fever, he was a remarkably tall five-year old, and very much like his eldest sister.

Little Anthony was the youngest of all the Kempell children. Elizabeth, as the oldest, was followed by four boys. First after a year by Henrik, then by Robert, Peter and George, each of them four years younger than the brother before him. The two girls, Celia and Christin, were fifteen and sixteen years younger than Elizabeth. Four years after Christin, little Anthony was born.

Little Anthony's death was a hard blow for their mother. By most standards she could be considered lucky. To have seven out of eight of her children reach grown up age wasn't all that common in those days. But every child has its special place in a mother's heart, no matter how many they are.

...

The morning after Sarah Hatfield's ball, Lady Elizabeth was sitting very quietly at the breakfast table in her brother's home, watching her niece and her nephew squabbling about who had got the biggest piece of cake.

Her thoughts were full of Sir Jonathan Strallan. The way he had come after her, the way he had looked at her, the way he had danced with her. And what Henrik had said about him, that Sir Jonathan was probably in love with her. Could it really be like that? Was that really what she wanted?

She had got used to the thought of remaining a maiden aunt. She had a family that loved her, she had made herself useful preparing all her siblings for school and grown up life. She had always felt very much appreciated and loved by her family, even though they didn't see her as a great beauty. She was allowed to be the person she was, they never forced her to be any different. Her parents gave her enough money to buy clothes and a few books, although she usually bought books and a few clothes for them instead. She had a rather free life, especially now, when all her brothers and sisters had grown up and her parents were still very healthy. Was she really ready to give up this life to tie herself in marriage to a man she hardly knew?

Even though he was both handsome and funny.

Even though she had thought about him constantly since she had first seen him across that dance floor.

Because that was what she had done. And she couldn't stop thinking about him.

...

And what would he think of her, once he got to know her a little better?

At least he was older than her.

But it was quite obvious he was shorter, she must be almost an inch taller than him, although he didn't seem to mind that.

It was also quite obvious he was more good-looking than her. He was a remarkably handsome man, although he didn't seem to be at all aware of it.

And if she was more or less intelligent than him, she frankly didn't know. Or care.

They hadn't done much other than dance together. At least she knew that he was a good dancer, much better than her. He obviously had a lot of practice.

She knew it was quite common for women to pretend they were less intelligent than they were, just to put the men they were interested in at ease. She herself could possibly get away with pretending to be stupid for a few months' courting, but not for an entire life. And she really didn't want to pretend anything at all, she wanted to be honest with him. She was the person she was, and if he didn't like that, well, maybe she wasn't the woman for him. Better let him find that out before he asked her to marry him, if that was his intention. Besides, you can't like everything about another human being.

But the strangest thing, a thing she was to find out later on, was that he seemed to do just that. Like or even love everything about her. He loved her the way she was, every new thing he learned about her just seemed to make him love her more.

...

Thank you for reading! Thank you very, very much for reviewing!

It is ironic, now that one of their daughters is dead and another a widow at less than thirty, that the Crawleys should destroy Edith's life because they worried about what her married life would be like when she was fifty.


	10. In Henrik Kempell's Library

Henrik Kempell was reading peacefully in his library the day after the ball, when his butler announced the arrival of Sir Jonathan Strallan.

After last nights late talk with Elizabeth, Henrik was not all that surprised to see Sir Jonathan showing up at his door like that. He was a little surprised that Sir Jonathan wanted to see _him _though, why not talk directly to _her_?

He felt still more bewildered when Sir Jonathan started out on some very forced kind of light conversation, praising the weather they had enjoyed lately, and discussing the various horses at the Royal Ascot some days later.

Then Sir Jonathan asked if Henrik knew if there were any new people in London for the season.

It suddenly dawned upon Henrik that Sir Jonathan didn't have the slightest idea of who Lady Elizabeth was. Neither did he know that she was at that very moment sitting in the White Salon of Henrik's house, just a few yards away from them, although with a wall in between. She was talking to Henrik's wife and their two young sisters after reading a book to Henrik's two little children.

For some reason Henrik found this whole situation quite amusing. It wasn't very nice of him, but he really enjoyed dragging it all out for a while. Poor Sir Jonathan seemed so embarrassed and helpless. And Henrik didn't actually know what else he could have done, without revealing what Elizabeth had told him in confidence yesterday evening.

So Henrik started out on an animated description of the pros and cons of one of those horses. Sir Jonathan didn't seem at all interested, even though he had been the one to bring up the subject in the first place.

The questions about new people in London, Henrik managed very gracefully to ignore.

...

After they had chatted for some twenty minutes, Henrik talking about horses and Sir Jonathan muttering and agreeing, Sir Jonathan gave some rather obvious hints that he was feeling restless and wanted to be on his way again.

Henrik wondered with a mischievous smile if he should just let the man go. Pretend that he had no idea what, or rather whom, Sir Jonathan was looking for. Say a polite good-bye to him, and leave it at that. It might be quite fun to send the poor man out on a wild goose chase.

After all Sir Jonathan was much closer to his goal than he thought, and by leaving Henrik's place he would only get further away again.

But Elizabeth would most probably never forgive Henrik if he didn't make Sir Jonathan stay. So Henrik took pity on the man and rang for his butler.

"Pearson, would you please ask Lady Elizabeth to join us."

Sir Jonathan looked a little bewildered at that, he had thought Henrik would just ask his butler to show his guest out.

Soon the door opened and Elizabeth stepped in.

"Henrik, what do you want? I..." she said. But then she saw Sir Jonathan and stopped short. A very soft smile spread on her face. Henrik had never seen his sister smiling in quite that way before, and it warmed his heart to see it.

"This is my sister, Lady Elizabeth Kempell, and this is Sir Jonathan Strallan." Henrik found it best to pretend he knew nothing while he introduced them to each other.

"...we...met..." Sir Jonathan stammered out. "So...it is Elizabeth? I should have known."

It wasn't quite clear what he meant by that, perhaps he was still thinking about Jane Austen and Pride and Prejudice. Perhaps he was only referring to the very obvious likeness between the two siblings that he hadn't noticed until now.

A very long silence followed.

Henrik looked from one of them to the other, but they only had eyes for each other. And when he saw the way Sir Jonathan was smiling at Elizabeth he was suddenly sure of what he had only guessed at last night. This man was deeply in love with Henrik's sister. Henrik had all the reason in the world to be happy for her, at least if Sir Jonathan was what she wanted. And judging from the way _she_ smiled at _him_, so he was.

Henrik at once regretted having wanted to make fun of this very kind and friendly man, who was so obviously besotted by his favourite sister. This sweet and gentle man was most likely going to be his brother-in-law, and he was very welcome as such. He obviously made Elizabeth happy, and that was the only really important thing.

"I'll ask someone to bring you a pot of tea", Henrik said, getting up from his desk. "Just feel free to use my library for as long as you need it." Then he slipped out of the door with a smile on his face that reached from one ear to the other.

His wife asked him what had happened, and he filled her in on the details.

Henrik was quite sure by now that Elizabeth wouldn't go back to India when the London season was over. He was getting his sister back, and he was very happy about it.

Maybe, if their parents were unable to come to London for the wedding, Henrik would also have the honour of giving Elizabeth away.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! And thank you ever so much for reviewing!

I hope you are not too impatient for Edith and Anthony, I promise I will come to them before too long.

This is meant to be something like a fairy tale, I am so tired of unhappy endings!


	11. Drinking Tea

When Sir Jonathan rang the doorbell of Sir Henrik Kempell's house, he had already visited three other houses without any luck. He didn't know more about the mysterious lady from the ball than he did last evening. He had already had three cups of tea, and was rather glad that Henrik Kempell forgot to offer him another.

All from the beginning of his visit to Sir Henrik he had a strange feeling that something was wrong. Henrik was behaving in a very unusual way, like if he had expected Sir Jonathan, but still was surprised to see him. And there was something else, something in the way that Henrik looked. Something strange and yet familiar that Jonathan had never noticed before in all those years he had known the man.

Henrik Kempell had been the fourth name on Sir Jonathan's list. The first three had been men he knew from school, people his own age. They were all married and had families, but their children were still too young for the débutante balls. He hadn't managed to be all that subtle during these three visits, and at least one of the men had had great difficulties hiding a smirk. So it was probably quite obvious that Jonathan was chasing after a woman. Oh, what the he..! Everybody would know about this soon enough!

But when Jonathan spoke to young Henrik he was still trying to wrap it in a little better.

"Nice weather we have had lately", he started. For some reason that remark made Henrik look even more bewildered.

So Sir Jonathan started talking about what first came to his mind. The Royal Ascot was just a few days away, and he had studied the program the morning before, quite oblivious of the fact that his life was going to change irrevocably that same evening. So he chattered on about some of the horses, asking Henrik for his opinion. After that he found it safe to ask if Henrik knew about any new people coming to London for the season.

Henrik seemed much more interested in horses than Jonathan had ever given him credit for. He just went on and on and on about one of the horses after the other, quite unable to leave the subject.

This was so obviously a waste of time.

Sir Jonathan squirmed. He tried not to be impolite, but he really was unable to listen to more talk about horses. He had asked three times already about new people in London, trying to word it differently every time, but Henrik just continued discussing horses. Sir Jonathan was feed up with horses by now, he decided not to go to the Ascot this year, although he usually enjoyed it.

Unless _she_ wanted to go there with him, of course.

At last Henrik noticed Sir Jonathan's impatience and rang for his butler. But instead of asking him to see Sir Jonathan out, as this gentleman had expected him to do, Henrik told the butler to ask Henrik's wife to join them.

They both sat there in silence for a while. Sir Jonathan thought about the fifth name on his list, very much doubting that he would learn anything more from him.

Then two things happened almost at once. First Sir Jonathan remembered that Henrik's wife was called Louisa and not Elizabeth, and right after that the door opened and the lady from the ball stepped in.

His heart started beating violently when he saw her. At last! He had found her!

She was dressed in a simple light blue cotton frock. There was no music, no candlelight, and no pale yellow silk. No elaborate hair-do and no jewelry. But she was as beautiful as she had been last night, maybe even more so. Her impressive height was still there, of course, and it had been one of the first things he had fallen in love with. She wore her head high and her back straight, there was something regal about her, even though she was so thin. She looked like a queen, she looked very much more like a queen than the queen herself did.

And her expressive face that he had enjoyed so much to look at, it was also still there. Right now she was smiling at him again. It was the softest smile he had ever seen.

He smiled back at her, feeling quite as awkward and as much in love with her as he had been the night before.

As from a distance he could hear Henrik introducing them to each other. Jonathan muttered something in response, but didn't know exactly what it was he said. His brain was all in a muddle.

At least he knew now that the lady - his lady - was called Elizabeth and was Henrik Kempell's sister.

Soon after that Sir Jonathan heard Henrik get out of the room and close the door.

Finding himself alone with Elizabeth for the first time, Jonathan stepped a little closer to her. He put one hand on each side of her face, leaned in - well, up - and placed his lips very tentatively and very softly on hers. He was careful not to hold her too tight, he wanted her to be able to turn her face away if she didn't want to kiss him.

But her reaction was quite the opposite. She put her hands lightly on the back of his head and pressed her lips harder against his.

When they finally drew apart again, the tenderness in their smiles had deepened. But at least it seemed that kissing her had made him able to speak again.

"I longed to do that all evening yesterday. Every time the music stopped, I was thinking about kissing you. But of course I couldn't do it out there on the dance floor", he said softly.

She was overwhelmed. She had just been kissed by a man for the first time in her life, although he probably wasn't aware of that. She was still not able to speak, she just kept looking into his darling blue eyes in silence.

So he babbled on. "What time is it, eleven o'clock, would you want to have lunch with me, Elizabeth? Perhaps? Or we could go for a walk in the park, maybe? Or we could have dinner together later on, if you want to? Or maybe we could go to the theatre? Or a concert?"

She still hadn't found the voice or the words to answer him. She just kept looking at him, smiling in the most enticing way.

So he continued. "Well, I don't know, I just think I need to talk to you, and perhaps you to me also. And I can't talk to you here, because I would just want to kiss you instead. It is not so easy to behave when we are all alone like this. And your brother will want his library back."

She just kept smiling at him, happy but quite unable to answer to that either.

There was a knock on the door then, and the butler came in with a tea-tray. He put it down on a small table, and disappeared through the door again. Lady Elizabeth, feeling the urge to be a good hostess to this wonderful man, went over to pour the tea.

But it only made him impatient.

"Never mind that! I honestly don't want any tea, I have been sipping tea all morning. Come here to me instead, I want to kiss you like that again."

So she let the tray be, and stepped close to him again. And he repeated what he had done before, only with a little more self-assurance. Because this time he knew that he was welcome.

But it was still a soft, chaste, gentle kiss. In spite of her rather brazen response, both to this kiss and the one before, he sensed that he had to go easy on her. He could feel she didn't kiss men often, there was so obviously more daring than experience in her kisses. And now that he finally had found her, he didn't want to scare her away again.

...

AN:Thank you for reading! And thank you, thank you, thank you for all kind reviews!

Believe it or not, the next chapter might be about Sir Anthony. In 1920. I think. I hope.

I have changed the category from Romance/Family to Romance/Humor, because I have tried to make this funny from the beginning. I don't know how I have succeded, though. And the 1920-parts are probably more tragical than funny.


	12. Interlude: Sir Anthony, 1920

Sir Anthony's father had told his son many times about how he met Sir Anthony's mother at that ball and fell in love with her just by looking at her for a while. How he had managed to dance with her all evening without getting to know her name. And how he had gone visiting the morning after, looking for her, trying to find out who she was. How he had happened to go to Anthony's uncle Henrik's house, were Anthony's mother was staying, and almost managed to go away from there without seeing her.

"Your uncle just kept talking about horses, you see. I simply grew tired of it", his father had said.

He was silent for a while, looking into his son's blue eyes, thinking about how very much little Anthony took after his mother.

"But your uncle's library is the place were I kissed your mother for the first time", he continued with a wry smile. "So it is a very important place, you understand. I was so happy to have found her again, so when your uncle left us alone there, I just couldn't keep my hands off her."

"You will understand that when you get a little older", he finished this confession to his four-year-old son, sensing that this wasn't really the right thing to tell a small child.

But little Anthony had no problems understanding that part of the story. He loved his tall, beautiful mother, more than he loved anybody else in the whole wide world. Even a little more - but only a very little more - than he loved his very kind and funny and boisterous father, who enjoyed so much to play with him and always made him laugh. Anthony himself liked very much to kiss or be kissed by his mother, although it was most often on the cheek or the head. And he also had difficulties keeping his hands off her when he sat by her side or on her lap, talking or listening to a fairy tale. So he thought he understood exactly how his father had felt.

There were a few other things that Anthony had wondered about in that story though, once he got a little older. One was that his father hadn't understood that his uncle Henrik and his mother were brother and sister. There was an obvious likeness between the two of them, everyone thought so. Neither had Anthony ever noticed that uncle Henrik had any particular interest in horses. Another strange thing was that his father had been so determined to find his mother, even though he hardly knew her. Had it really been like that? Had he been so sure? Or was it just a story, a story to show his son how much he loved the boy's mother?

...

Sir Anthony himself was very seldom that sure about things. Like marrying Lady Edith tomorrow, was it the right thing to do? Or wasn't it?

Everything was ready for their wedding night. The room across the dressing room from his own bedroom was made up with new furniture and bedding. Edith had chosen the things and he had bought them. There was to be flowers and candles placed there tomorrow. He had a brand new pyjama with white and blue stripes waiting for him in a drawer. And his own bedroom was also tidier than it normally was. The sheets in this room were going to be changed tomorrow, although he very much doubted he would sleep here that night, after getting married to Edith. And in the morning after their wedding they were leaving for their honeymoon in Italy.

He was in his bed now and he simply couldn't sleep. This was his third consecutive night without or almost without any sleep. He was worrying about marrying Edith, it was so obvious that her father didn't approve. How could he think he was the right man for this beautiful and exuberant young girl with her whole life in front of her? How could he even imagine that it could be a good thing for her to be married to him and bedded by him? An old man who had only one functioning arm, a man who couldn't even hold her in the proper way when they were going to make love? Yes, he loved Edith, he loved her much more than he had thought it at all possible to love a woman. But wasn't that the best reason of all to give her up? To give her the chance to live a better life than the one he could offer her?

She was such a wonderful person, so beautiful, so intelligent, so friendly and so funny. He could really think of nothing better for _him_ than to marry her and go on a honeymoon with her. Travelling with her, kissing her, talking to her, making love to her, laughing with her. It was such a wonderful idea. If only he had been fifteen or even ten years younger. If only he hadn't lost the use of his arm. If only he hadn't felt so unsuitable. So old and so crippled.

...

Next morning, when he finally was waiting for his bride in church, he hadn't slept at all. He wasn't feeling well, his head was spinning and he was very close to fainting.

"He looks as if he's waiting for a beating from the headmaster", he heard Lady Violet say. He would have resented very much more to hear her say that, if it hadn't been so accurate. Because that was exactly how he felt. Like if something bad was going to happen to him, and he was forced to wait for it, without a chance to get away.

He was going to marry Edith, and everybody would hate him for it. Even Edith herself, maybe already this evening, when she would find out how inadequate he was as a husband and a lover. She wanted children, he knew that, and she was also a young woman with physical needs. So there was no getting around this aspect of married life. Not that he would want to, he was very much in love with her and very much attracted to her, that part was not the problem. But he knew he would be clumsy, and have to ask her to help in ways he rather not. He didn't want to be a nuisance to her, in bed or anywhere else.

Then he heard Reverend Travis and Lady Grantham talk again. Saying something about him having been there before. Something about the late Lady Strallan, about Maud.

Could they really have said what he thought he had heard? That "Maybe the late Lady Strallan was a hard act to follow. Or maybe a hard act to repeat."

How dared they talk like that about Maud?

And how could they even think he would compare Edith to Maud! He had never done that, and he was sure he would never do that. Because they were two very different women. But mostly because he himself had been a very different man, when he married Maud.

It had been a very unhappy time of Sir Anthony's life when he met Maud. He was only twenty years old and had just lost his father, his mother had died less than a year earlier. Losing his wife had been a too hard blow for Anthony's father to take, he had just crumbled away after that.

Maud had been a friend of Anthony's ten years older sister Emilia and even a year older than her. Maud had been a widow for almost a year when the two of them had found each other in their mutual grief. Anthony's grief for his wonderful parents, Maud's for her late husband.

That mutual feeling of grief hadn't been the only thing that Anthony and Maud had in common. They had also shared an unusual sense of humor and an interest in books and opera music and many other things. But most important had of course been their mutual physical attraction.

Maud had tried to fight her attraction to Anthony. She had considered herself much too old for a young man like him. But Anthony had persisted, and finally managed to make her change her mind.

Their marriage had turned out to be a remarkably happy one. He had no experience at all of the physical side of love, but she had been very patient when she taught him how to do to make it good for her as well as himself. He knew that Maud's first marriage had also been very happy, but he never felt any jealousy. How can you be jealous of a person who is dead? Besides, he himself had only been twelve years old when Maud had married Herbert, so what was there really to be jealous of?

The tragedy of their marriage was the many miscarriages. They both longed very much to have children. But when Maud finally gave birth to a living baby boy, she herself died. And the little boy's life didn't last many hours.

After that Sir Anthony was determined never to marry again. But time heals wounds, and many years had passed by since Maud died. The pain was not so acute any longer.

But hearing Reverend Travis and Lady Violet joke in that heartless way about his late wife and the new marriage he was going to enter into, was simply more than Sir Anthony could take in his exhausted condition. He just couldn't let them make fun of Maud in that horrible way. And what would they say about Edith, once she was married to him?

At that moment he knew for certain that he couldn't possibly go through with this.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for reviewing!

In the next chapter I will be back in 1863 to tell you more about Sir Anthony's parents. Please keep reading and reviewing, you make me so happy!


	13. Kissing

AN: Sorry about this. More fluff.

...

When Pearson told Elizabeth she was wanted by her brother in the library, she had no idea what it could be about. It had been quite a shock to find Sir Jonathan there.

He had come after her!

The moment she saw him she felt her heart melt and a smile forming on her lips. Who had she tried to fool by all her doubts and misgivings! Of course she wanted him. More than anything else in this world she wanted to be with this handsome and friendly man who seemed to care so much for her.

She heard Henrik introduce them to each other, and Sir Jonathan mutter something in response. And she suddenly realized she had never told him her name yesterday. But he had found her anyway.

There was a long silence while she looked into his blue eyes again. Enchanted.

Henrik got up from his desk, and went out the door, telling them they could use his library for as long as they wanted.

As soon as Henrik had left, Jonathan stepped closer to her. Then, without a word, he simply leaned forward, taking her face between his hands and kissed her.

Her heart almost stopped at that.

His lips were very soft and tender. There was a sweet taste of tea and sugar about him. She could feel he was holding himself back a little, so she pressed her lips harder against his while she fondled his hair. She wanted to show him how very much she wanted to do this. How very much she wanted to kiss and be kissed by him.

She was thirty-four years old, almost thirty-five, and now she was savouring the very first kiss of her life. It was no wonder her head was spinning. She hoped this kiss would last forever.

But it finally ended. They let go of each other, still looking lovingly into each others eyes.

"I longed to do that all evening yesterday", she heard him say, very tenderly. She wanted to answer him, tell him how wonderful that kiss had been, and how badly she needed another, but she simply couldn't speak.

She heard him inviting her out. For lunch or a walk or dinner or the theatre or a concert. For anything he could think of, it seemed. She wanted to say yes to all of it, or to any of it, just yes to spend the day with him, but she still couldn't speak.

Then he told her that they needed to talk. And that he couldn't talk to her in Henrik's library, because he couldn't behave when they were alone. He would just want to kiss her instead.

Oh, she only wished he would!

But there was a knock on the door, and Pearson put in a tea-tray. So she went over to pour the tea.

But then - at last - Sir Jonathan told her to come to him and let him kiss her again. So she stepped close to him and they kissed again, tenderly, softly. And when they stopped she was happy, but she still wanted more.

"I think I need to kiss you more than I need to talk to you", she whispered, wondering about her own frankness. Did she really say that?

He laughed. "I'm glad! So let us kiss for a while then, we can talk later!"

And then he put his arms around her, drawing her close to him, and she put _her_ arms around him. She was feeling his body close to hers now while their mouths searched for and found each other. This third kiss was different, still soft but a little more insistent.

He finished the kiss by letting go of her lips and placing his mouth on the side of her neck. She felt him kissing her very softly on her neck a couple of times with his lips. Then his tongue came out and she could feel him licking tenderly at her skin. It was impossible to hold back a very soft moan. He finished by grazing her just a little bit with his teeth, careful not to hurt her or leave any marks. That elicited another low moan from her.

The kisses made her head spin. But this was something very different, something on a whole other level. It filled her with a desire she had never experienced before.

And also - she suddenly understood that there was so much more to lovemaking than kisses and that child-conceiving act she knew about from the biology books. And his little assault on her neck, as wonderful and arousing as it had been, was just a small hint of all the possibilities.

Now he looked at her with a strange smile. He looked a little shy but also quite a bit satisfied with himself. As if he wondered about her reaction to what he had done. She still couldn't speak, overwhelmed by her feelings. But she was sure he must have heard her moans.

To show him how she felt she leaned forward and kissed him very softly on his lips.

"I love you, Elizabeth", he murmured against her mouth. "I love you so much."

She wished she could have answered that too, that she could have given him the proper answer to those words. But she still couldn't speak.

...

They spent the day doing a variety of the things he had mentioned earlier on. All the time they were talking, smiling, joking and laughing. Talking and laughing together was suddenly easy again, they were feeling more comfortable with each other's company. But the seriousness of what had happened in the library was still there in the back of their minds, though none of them talked about it.

She had expected him to kiss her again when they finally said goodbye outside her brother's house that evening. So she had stepped a little closer to him, looking into his lovely blue eyes. But all he had done was to take a step back, as if he didn't want to touch her. He smiled at her in a rather embarrassed way before he said a quick good-night, turned around and walked away. She stood looking at his back, but he didn't turn to look at her one single time. He just walked on until she couldn't see him any more.

He didn't want to kiss her any longer!

What had she done wrong? He had wanted to get to know her a little better, hadn't he liked what he saw? Or what was it?

She was so scared when she lay there in her bed, and very close to tears. She really didn't want to loose him now. This morning she hadn't known for sure if she wanted him or not. Now she was certain that she did. After those kisses - and that other thing he had done - she had frankly wondered how she had managed without things like that all her grown up life. Those gentle and soft kisses from that sweet and wonderful man had shaken her up completely. She couldn't possibly go back to her old life now.

She longed for him - she longed for his lips on hers, she longed for his arms all around her, she longed for his hands and his lips and his tongue to touch her body. Everywhere, even in places that weren't exactly proper. She wanted to be with him, in a very physical way.

But she also longed just to laugh and talk to him, it had been such a wonderful day. And it had seemed like it had been a wonderful day for him as well. She had believed that it was until the very last moment. The moment he stepped back and walked away.

What had she done wrong? Why didn't he want her any more?

...

AN: Thank you for reading and reviewing!

I have changed back the genre for this story. Humor felt a little too hard to live up to, somehow. It stifled my writing. I would like to choose the genre Fluff, but I didn't find it.

I am still trying to make this story funny, a least a little bit. Because my main reason for liking the Edith/Anthony-pairing in the show is that they _are_ quite funny. Especially together. (Although that horrible jilting wasn't funny at all, of course.)


	14. Marbles

Sir Jonathan Strallan was in his bed, feeling rather pleased with himself. Two nights ago he had no idea that Lady Elizabeth Kempell even existed. Last night he knew there was such a person, and that he loved her, but he didn't know anything about her life and circumstances, not even her name. By now he had both kissed her and told her that he loved her. His life was suddenly moving very fast in a very different direction - a much better direction than he had anticipated. She hadn't told him that she loved him, but she had kissed him back, very eagerly, which he decided amounted to the same thing. He had taken some giant steps on the road to making her his wife.

He had to show her his London house before he proposed to her, maybe he should ask her the next day if she would like to see it. That wouldn't be too difficult. They could have lunch there also, so she could see how good his cook was. He should ask a maid to go with them when he showed her the bedrooms. To make her feel a little more comfortable. And to avoid kissing her in a room with a bed...he really had some problems behaving.

But he also had to show her Locksley, which was a little more complicated. Because he couldn't take her there alone, not if he didn't want to ruin her reputation. They would have to stay over night there, it would be impossible to get from London and back in one day, there would be no time at all to see the place.

He wanted her to know what she said yes to, and Locksley was an important part of his life. He lived there most of the year and got a great part of his income from it. She had to have a real chance to see if it would be possible for her to be happy there.

He was surprised about how confident he was feeling. He had been so sure that he wanted her, all from the start. And by now he was growing more and more sure that he would get her.

...

"So, what do you want to do now?" he had asked her when they got out from the restaurant where they had their lunch earlier that day. Maybe he had expected her to say that it didn't really matter, but she didn't do that.

"There is one place where I went many times during my childhood", she answered instead. "When it was decided that my sisters and I should go to London during this season, that was the first place I thought about visiting again. So maybe it would be nice to go there with you. If you don't mind?"

"And where would that be?"

"The British Museum. There are so many interesting things to see there."

That wasn't exactly what he had expected, but why not? He hadn't been there for a few years himself, it might be worth a new visit. Maybe a museum was as good a place as any other to get to know someone a little better. Besides, he could be anywhere, if only she was with him.

So they went there. It had really been very interesting to go around there with her. She knew a lot about a great many things. She told him things he didn't know about giraffes as well as ancient sculptures.

She liked the Rosetta Stone very much. "You know that they managed to interpret the old Egyptian language because of that stone. Because there was the same text in three different languages on it. Isn't it fascinating?"

Later on they also went to look at the Elgin Marbles in the Elgin saloon. "They ought to be called the Parthenon marbles instead, don't you think?", Elizabeth said. "After all that is the name of the temple in Athens that they come from."

"Yes, maybe. But Lord Elgin was the one who brought them here, as you know."

"Don't you think they are fantastic? How could they make such things so long ago? They are more than 2000 years old, from 450 BC, or something like that."

Sir Jonathan was acutely aware of all the male nudity on those Greek sculptures. He felt quite embarrassed to go looking at them with Lady Elizabeth. But Elizabeth didn't seem to be bothered by that at all. She just went on about how beautiful and true to life and full of real movement those horses and naked men were. Even those creatures that were a mixture of horses and men, and weren't true to life at all, in Sir Jonathan's opinion.

...

"If I had known you existed I would have gone to India ten years ago", he said a little later, when they had moved on to another part of the museum and were sitting together on a bench. "To bring you home with me."

She laughed at that. "Who says I would have come?" she asked with a mischievous smile.

"I would have made you", he ventured to say.

"Really? How would you have managed that? I have a will of my own, you see, and I had a good life."

"I could have tried kissing you, perhaps. You seem to like that", he teased.

If he had thought that would make her blush he had been wrong. She only looked at him with a very happy smile. "I do", she said, quite unabashed. "So it would probably have worked out fine."

That made him want to kiss her again, there and then. But you don't go around kissing people at the British Museum, so he had to hold himself back.

...

After the museum they had dinner together in a small restaurant. He felt so proud sitting there with her. She was telling him about her life in India, how she had teached her younger brothers and sisters but also had plenty of time to read herself. How she was interested in a lot of different things, she had read books about ancient history and biology and many other subjects. So she knew a lot more about the things in the museum now than she had done when she went there as a child.

"So, what have _you_ been up to all your grownup life?" she asked. "Besides dancing at all the débutante balls for the last forty years?"

"Forty years ago I was only a toddler", he said a little sheepishly, thinking she must find him very shallow. "It's more like twenty-five years."

"Twenty-five years is also a long time. It explains why you are such a good dancer, though."

He liked the bantering way she talked to him. It seemed that she found him amusing but not all that bright. He wanted to prove her wrong in that respect, though he didn't mind her teasing him a little. He didn't know what it was with her that made him always feel so comfortable. What it was that made him smile and laugh all the time they were together.

"I guess I went to all those balls because I waited for _you_ to show up", he added. "It did pay off in the end, didn't it?"

...

Later in the evening he followed her back to Henrik Kempell's house.

She was looking expectantly at him but he couldn't kiss her outside her brother's house. Anyone could see them there. Henrik Kempell wouldn't thank him for taking advantage of his sister and ruining her reputation. So he stepped back a bit and avoided touching her.

"Good night", he said, and after one last long glance at her beautiful face he turned away and left. He didn't dare to look back, because he knew that if she was still standing there he wouldn't be able to stop himself from running back to her and take her in his arms. And kiss her.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you even more for reviewing!

I had no intention of turning this story into a tourist brochure. I just thought about what there could be in London for them to do during the day 150 years ago, and then found it an interesting thought that they could go and look at the same things in the same museum as we can do today. (Even though we have to go to another museum to see the stuffed animals.) And I think that a museum is the kind of things that would interest Lady Elizabeth.


	15. A Strange Kiss

Lady Elizabeth didn't sleep much that night, worrying that Sir Jonathan had grown tired of her. She wasn't able to eat much at breakfast either. Henrik noticed her gloom, but thought it better to let her alone. She had been out all day yesterday with Sir Jonathan Strallan, but she didn't seem at all happy. What could have gone wrong?

...

Shortly after breakfast the doorbell rang. It was Sir Jonathan, asking Pearson if Lady Elizabeth was in. Suddenly Elizabeth realised that nothing was really wrong at all. He was just as eager to see her as he had been yesterday. It had all of it been inside her own head.

Lady Elizabeth went out into the hallway to meet him. Suddenly her earlier gloom had turned into a light giddiness. She hadn't slept very much, and seeing him there made her feel still more light-headed. She had kissed this man yesterday, it was so very incredible! She really had! She was longing to do it again. She was so happy to see him.

She wondered if it really was _him_ she wanted or if it would have been the same with _any_ man who had shown her a little attention. Not _any_ man of course, but any _nice_ man. But did it really matter? _He_ was the one who had done it, after all, done what no one else had ever found it worth doing. _He_ was the one who had kissed her and brought out her desire. He was the one who said he loved her. She couldn't really distinguish between her longing for him and her longing for more kisses.

And also - there had been a glimpse of supressed passion underneath the softness of his kisses. When she thought of doing those other things with him, those things that husbands and wives were supposed to do together in order to have children...she longed for that too. She also felt a bit scared, even of doing it with him, but doing it with anyone else would be downright impossible.

...

That day he invited her to see his London house. He murmured something about her having to see what it was like if she should be able to make a decision. He didn't say about what though, but, well...what else could it be?

He had a maid going around with them when he showed her the upstairs bedrooms, so she wouldn't feel embarrassed.

"There are nine bedrooms in all, so there is plenty of space. And then there is the nursery here, if...well...for small children", he mumbled, looking down at the floor, overtaken by shyness.

"Though the last child to play in there was actually me", he added. "That is my hobby-horse over there, he was really my favorite when I was a small boy. I could travel anywhere on him. I haven't needed the room for anything else, so I kept it like it was. Well, hoping that...someday..." He stopped short again.

She smiled at him. She didn't know he could be so shy, it was very endearing. She had a sudden glimpse of a small boy, running around the house with his hobby-horse. A small, blond, beautiful, little boy, not unlike Henrik's son Martin.

After he had dismissed the maid he showed her the downstairs rooms. She liked it all. It was a well-kept house, but not very modern. It was a little smaller than Henrik's house, but not much.

At last they ended up in the library. It was quite a small room, with just a few shelves and not nearly as many books as in Henrik's library.

"I have my main library at Locksley. You have to see that also before..." He trailed off again.

"Locksley? Is that your gingerbread house? The one I can't eat?"

"Exactly", he smiled. He was glad she remembered.

She looked on the backs of the books in the shelves, a variety of novels and books on different subjects like history and geography and biology. He was obviously well-read, and had many interests. She liked that. Although there was no denying that what she liked best about him was his kisses, the fact that he kissed _her_. But he was good company also.

He stood by her side for a while, looking admiringly at her. Then he reached out his hand and stroked her cheek. When she turned towards him, he stepped closer and put his arms around her. And then he kissed her.

This kiss turned out very differently from all the kisses they had shared until then.

It had started out like all the soft, chaste, gentle kisses they had been sharing the day before. But after a while she felt his mouth open, just a tiny bit, and the tip of his tongue touch her lips very softly. After some moments of indecision she did what he had done, and soon her tongue met his in the small opening formed between their lips.

They stayed like that for a while, motionless, taking in the new sensation. Tasting each other. Their tongues met in that little patch of neutral ground. But then it seemed that he decided that it was time to conquer her mouth. To her utter surprise she could feel his tongue slowly but quite resolutely entering between her lips and teeth and then further into her mouth forcing it to open wider and pushing back her own tongue.

What was this? The feeling of his body pressed hard against hers, his strong arms holding her and his tongue moving in that forceful way into her mouth filled her with a strange form of helpless desire. A desire to be ruled by him, to accept how much stronger he was, to give in to him, give up her own will. To have him do whatever he might want to do with her.

Could she have stopped this? Would she have _wanted_ to stop this? Or was it just too wonderful? She suddenly felt her head whirling around, she faltered and she almost fell. She was taller than him but slim and light, and he was a strong, athletic man and had no problems holding her up. But the kiss was broken by her fall.

He held her head gently on top of his shoulder, stroking her softly over her hair, feeling full of remorse.

"Did I hurt you?" he whispered. "Or did I frighten you? I'm so sorry Elizabeth."

"No." She shook her head. "I fainted, I think, it was all too much for me. I haven't slept well."

Then she looked inquiringly at him. "I didn't know...it was...possible...to kiss like that. It is such a very strange thing to do, isn't it?"

He smiled at her astonishment, he didn't know what to say to that. Maybe he should ask her how she had liked it, but he didn't dare.

...

When he held her like that she totally understood what he had meant by not being able to behave when they were alone. She felt a mad urge to take off her clothes, and his too, and make love to this wonderful man right there on his library floor. Without any words of love, without any promises for the future. Just because she was full to the brim of desire for him.

She shook her head, trying to get some sense back into it.

"Maybe we had better go for a walk instead of kissing", she said to him in a low voice that was in reality nothing more than a pleading to preserve her chastity.

"Please don't be afraid of me, Elizabeth! You can always stop me if I do anything you don't approve of, you _have_ to know that. I would never do anything against your will."

"But it is my will that is the problem", she whispered almost inaudibly. He didn't know if he was supposed to hear that, but it filled him with exultation.

But also with a strong will to protect her. She was such a strange woman, so trusting, utterly unable to hide her feelings. She wasn't playing games with him, she was really as wide-eyed and as full of wonder as she appeared to be.

He loved her so very much. He loved her more and more all the time.

"I love you, Elizabeth", he said. "I love you so very much. I want you to know that. And later...well...I had to show you this house you see. And also...you need to see Locksley. But after that..."

He was silent for a moment, considering if he had said all he needed to say. Then he continued. "So perhaps it would be best if we would kiss less and talk more for the time being."

As an immediate contradiction to that, he put a new kiss on her lips, a very soft and chaste one. No hint of a tongue. Her strong reaction to that had come as a surprise to him, and now he wanted to give her a chance to adjust to the thought before he tried it again.

Because he knew he would try it again, of course he would. But maybe not until after his proposal. Not until she had said yes to him.

He didn't understand how forceful he had seemed to her during that kiss, how helpless she had felt. He thought he had done that as gently as he had done everything else he had ever done to her. After all, her tongue had come out to meet his. He had taken that as an invitation, thought that she had known what was to be expected next. Though it was obvious to him now that she hadn't had a clue.

She didn't respond to this kiss the way she had done to the earlier ones, she just let him kiss her. He feared that he was about to scare her away. He just couldn't let that happen.

He kept kissing her, keeping his lips very soft, stroking her hair, waiting for some kind of response from her that didn't come. Then he ended the kiss and put his nose against hers, rubbing it softly and very tenderly against it. That made her face split up in an amused little smile.

At last he had got a reaction. He felt such relief then. He had made her smile again, she would stay with him.

...

That evening in bed she was thinking through the day, replaying it all in her mind. It had been a very strange day. He had shown her his house, talking like if he intended to marry her and talking longingly and shyly about children. And he had said that he loved her, he had said that again. Had she ever answered that she loved him too? Maybe she hadn't. But she did.

And she ought to tell him so.

And that strange kiss - she didn't really know what she should think about it yet. Where had he got an idea like that? It had shattered her, brought all her desire to the surface. Making her realise she was another person than she had always thought she was. Not such a calm and controlled woman as she had thought. She had told him yesterday that she had a will of her own, but obviously her will was not so strong as she had thought. She could tease him and be playfully condescending when they were talking together, but when he kissed her she really couldn't resist him. All her willpower went away. Or rather, all her willpower wanted him.

And suddenly she realized that she longed for him to kiss her in that strange way again. Soon. And maybe she could - perhaps - do the same to him?

She fell asleep easily that night, being so tired and feeling so much loved by him.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for reviewing!

This love story between Jonathan and Elisabeth more or less keeps writing itself. It develops partly outside of my control. I am often taken by surprise at what they are up to. (I wonder if other writers share that feeling about their stories?)


	16. Interlude: Lady Cora, 1920

Lady Grantham had often heard her mother in law brag about how successful she had been during her first season in London. Cora was convinced that Violet was embellishing the truth. It was not at all easy to see the Dowager Countess as an eighteen year old ravishing beauty.

Now they were all in church, waiting for the wedding between Edith and Sir Anthony to begin. It had turned out well for all of her daughters, Cora thought. Considering the circumstances...

Because Lady Grantham didn't know for sure if Mary was Robert's daughter. And she knew for sure that Edith wasn't. So did Robert.

...

She had been frustrated and sad after Robert's lovemaking one morning early on in their marriage. He was always very quick, as if he didn't want to waste any time on such things. He got into her almost at once, and gave her no chance to warm up, so it usually hurt. He didn't stay with her afterwards either, always in a hurry to get his clothes on and go away to his dogs and horses. This morning he had left her alone in the house, since his parents were in London.

Carson, who was only a young footman at the time, had found her crying in one of the saloons. He had given her a napkin to wipe away her tears, asking her what was the matter. And she had told him, she had felt so sad and hopeless and so far away from home, and he had been so sympathetic. He had then led her up the stairs into a little used bedroom. There he had given her a thorough and very tender kissing. After that he had very gently taken off her clothes, kissing and caressing every new part of her body he undressed. She hadn't been able to resist, because she hadn't wanted to resist. And finally, when they had made love, it had all been wonderful, and the way she had wanted it to be with Robert. Because, after all, she loved Robert.

It had only been that one time, and they had both pretended all the time afterwards that it never had happened. If anybody had found out it would have cost her her marriage and him his job and probably also the chance of finding a new one.

Things had gone much better with Robert after that. She had learnt to make him slow down, make him kiss her and caress her by caressing and kissing him. And he had fallen in love with her, and suddenly her married life was as wonderful as she had always hoped it would be.

But she had got pregnant with Mary sometime around then.

...

Edith was the result of a rape.

The whole thing was foggy in her memory. It had happened in London, they had been there for the season, but Robert had gone back to Downton for a couple of weeks to attend to some business. Mary had been two years old at the time and her nanny had taken her out in the park. Cora had been left alone in the house, feeling bored.

So she had gone out for a long walk in London. And somehow she had lost her way. And then...well she didn't remember all the details, but a nice man had offered her a ride back in his closed carriage. But once she got into the carriage he wasn't nice any longer. His eyes darkened and he started pressing her down on her back at the seat, pulling violently at her skirts. She tried to resist, but he hit her and hit her again. The more she struggled the more he abused her. So at long last she just gave up and let him have his way. Again and again, with less and less resistance from her.

The carriage was moving all the time, she wondered if the coachman knew what his master was up to.

She was terribly scared that he would kill her. The horrible murders of Jack the Ripper, just a few years before, were fresh in her memory. But he didn't kill her. He just threw her out from the carriage in an alley close to their house. It was already dark, it must have lasted for hours. She staggered home, got in through a back-door, and managed to stumble to her room unnoticed.

She didn't dare go to the police, she just wanted a bath, to clean herself from that horrible experience. She felt so dirty. So soiled. She was bruised all over, but the feeling of humiliation was worse.

She told Robert about it when he came back a week later, it was a relief to be able to tell it to someone. He saw her bruises and her distress so he believed her, he was very understanding. He wanted her to go to the police, but accepted it when she said she just couldn't.

It took a little more than two weeks until she had healed enough to be able to make love to him again.

When her period didn't come a couple of weeks after the rape, she thought it was due to some damage caused by it. She didn't understand that she was pregnant until she felt the baby kicking in her belly.

She tried to bring on a miscarriage then. But there was a strength and a yearning for life in that little fetus that was impossible to put out.

It was obvious this wasn't Robert's child. Robert was as distressed as her when she told him about it.

"If it is a girl you can keep it, if you want to. I will never let out it isn't mine. Not to the child, nor to anyone else, I will treat her as my own daugter. But if it is a boy we have to get rid of it somehow", he said. "I'm sorry, but I can't have a bastard inheriting Downton. I will see if there is a way to have it adopted by someone. And then we will say that the baby has died."

So Cora had been very happy when Edith turned out to be a girl. It is hard for a mother not to love a child she has felt kicking in her belly for so many months. And the birth was easy, much easier than that horrible conception had been.

Her mother in law had shown her bad temper, as could have been expected. No future Earl this time either. But of course Lady Violet didn't know that she wouldn't have got an heir one way or the other. This way, she at least got a grandchild.

Edith wasn't really Violet's grandchild of course, but what the eyes can't see, the heart won't grieve over. And Lady Violet had always loved Edith, more than any of her other grandchildren. And Cora was thankful of that, because given the circumstances it had been very hard for herself to love Edith. And it had been impossible for Robert, however much he had tried to treat her in a fair way.

Mary wasn't at all kind to her little sister either. Maybe she felt her parents', or at least her father's, resentment to the little girl, maybe she was just like every other little child that feels threatened by a new arrival.

And Edith couldn't help at all in what way she had been conceived. She was as much an innocent victim of this as Cora herself was. Perhaps even more so.

Just a few months after Edith was born, Cora was pregnant again. She had a strong feeling that this child was a boy, it had felt different from her other pregnancies, all from the beginning. And it was a blessing to know that this third child was definitely Robert's.

...

This morning Cora had at least managed to tell Edith she was beautiful. Because she was, her happiness and her beautiful gown made her so.

Cora couldn't help admiring the way her middle daughter always struggled on, using the few advantages she had. The husband that she was soon going to marry she had managed to secure herself, with little help from anybody else. And Sir Anthony was a good man, a kind man, and a rich and titled man as well. For Edith he was a good catch, in spite of the disadvantages he might have.

So Cora didn't have any objections to Sir Anthony marrying Edith. It was so obvious that he loved and adored her. And frankly, it would be good for Edith to get away from Downton and Robert's constant disapproval. Cora was glad her daughter had found someone who would love and protect her.

Cora loved Robert. And he had never blamed her for what had happened. But she could see he wasn't treating Edith in a fair way. And why would he interfere between Edith and Sir Anthony when it was so obvious that Sir Anthony made her happy?

Or maybe that was just it, maybe Robert was begrudging Edith her happiness. He wanted to punish her for being who she was, although she couldn't help it and didn't even know about it.

Cora smiled at Edith as she passed her on her way up the aisle with Robert. Edith really looked happy.

Then Sir Anthony interrupted the ceremony.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you, thank you, thank you for reviewing!

This chapter was difficult to write, but it is one of my main reasons for writing this story. I wanted an explanation to why Robert is treating Edith so horribly. Which is more obvious than ever in series 3. And this is what I finally came up with.

The idea about Mary possibly being Carson's daughter I have seen expressed by others. It also seems obvious from the series. No AU there, I think. But this story about Edith's conception is entirely the product of my own twisted brain. I think it gives a credible explanation to the way her family, especially her father, is treating her, though. It is obvious that Lady Violet loves Edith and wants to keep her from marrying Sir Anthony out of concern for _her_. But Robert only seems irritated about seeing Edith happy.

I know he says he is happy that Edith is happy. But I don't think he looks like he means it.


	17. Love

AN: Sorry if I shocked anyone with that last chapter. In this one I assure you that I am back to my usual level of fluff.

...

That night Sir Jonathan didn't feel at all pleased with himself. Actually, he felt rather ashamed. When he kissed Elizabeth for the first time he had promised himself to take it easy with her. And now he had managed to make her faint! He was feeling that he was moving much too fast, he had only known her for a couple of days, after all.

When he had said he would never do anything against her will, she had whispered that her will was the problem. The triumphant feeling that had given him was now long gone. He loved her, he was supposed to take care of her, to protect her. He wanted to marry her, not seduce her. And definitely not now, before he had proposed to her and she had said yes. He wanted her to be able to think that over carefully and with a clear head, and say yes to him because she wanted to. He didn't want her to marry him because she was forced to do it to avoid a scandal.

When he kissed her after she had fainted it was like she had no will left at all, as if he had taken it all away from her. He hated himself for doing that to her, she was usually so alive and so vibrant. He hadn't dared to kiss her again after that, so that was the latest kiss from her he had on his lips. Like putting his lips to...well, he didn't know like what really - a steak, maybe? Or a pudding? Something warm and soft but without life. He felt a bit hungry, actually, maybe that was what gave him the associations.

He ought to have stopped at once when she didn't respond to that kiss. When he thought back on it now it all felt so wrong. A kiss should be a mutual thing, something exchanged. Or maybe, sometimes, something given. And that kiss, well, it truly felt more taken than given.

They had gone out afterwards for a walk in the park. She had been her usual laughing and teasing self, and he had been happy to have that back.

What he needed to do now was to let her see Locksley as soon as possible. Because after that he could propose to her. By now he was almost certain that she wanted _him_, but she should also get a chance to see if she wanted the kind of life he was able to offer to her.

...

That evening he was invited to dinner in Henrik's home, and the day after that he had invited Henrik and his wife and the two sisters as well as Elizabeth to dine with him in his London home. He wanted to get to know her relatives, and to be accepted by them. He knew her family meant a lot to her.

When he picked her up the next morning, she looked relaxed and happy. She didn't seem at all worried about what had happened the day before, and that made him feel a little better.

"As I told you yesterday I have to show you Locksley", he said when they were sitting together on a bench in the park. "But I can't take you there alone, because we have to stay the night, or better still, a couple of nights. We would of course sleep in different rooms, but you would be the gossip of the county if you stayed there alone with me and the servants."

Her family was of course the answer to how he could show her Locksley without leaving her open to vicious gossip. So he asked Elizabeth if he should invite her two sisters to go with them there for a couple of days visit.

"So you want Celia and Christin to chaperon for me, I'm sure they would be flattered by that!" she laughed. "But I think you should invite Louisa and the children also, it would be nice for the little ones to get out in the countryside, and I'm sure they would enjoy the train also. You had better invite Henrik too, but he will probably not have time to go, I'm afraid. He has his business to attend to."

So that evening at dinner Sir Jonathan asked them all to join him. And it was decided that Celia, Christin, Louisa, Martin and little Isabella, and of course Elizabeth, should join him three days later on a trip to Locksley and stay there for two nights.

They couldn't go before then because Celia and Christin didn't want to miss the next débutante ball they were invited to. After all, that was what they were sent to London to do.

"I don't want to miss the chance to meet someone nice", Celia said.

"Yes, just look at how well it worked out for Elizabeth!" Christin added, smiling warmly at Sir Jonathan and making him feel very welcome into the family.

Sir Jonathan had been invited to that ball too, but he had declined. He had decided that his days as a good catch for eighteen-year-olds were definitely over.

...

In spite of Sir Jonathan's resolve to go easy with the kisses, they kept kissing each other, mostly in his library but sometimes in other places were they could be alone. The first day after she had fainted the kisses were still chaste and gentle, but Elizabeth was definitely taking part in them, quit eagerly. She was not at all like she had been when he had kissed her that last time the day before. She was enjoying kissing him again, and he was happy about that.

So he made a new resolve. He could kiss her and hold her in his arms as much as he wanted to, but nothing more. He really had to behave. There were places on her body where he couldn't let his hands wander, not even outside her clothes. He couldn't get his hands inside her clothes either, not anywhere. And he couldn't unbutton or take off anything she was wearing. Nothing further than helping her with her coat.

When he kissed her the day after that it was still a chaste, gentle kiss. But after a little while he felt her tongue very softly touching his lips. He couldn't help smiling at that. So she wanted to try it again? Good! He put his tongue out to meet hers, very softly, just touching the tip. He would wait for her to take the next step he decided, he didn't want to have her faint again, one time was more than enough.

After a while she shyly pushed her tongue into his mouth. He opened it a little wider so her tongue could slip in beside his own. It was so delicious to feel her exploring the inside of his mouth. Then, with small, deliberate movements she gently coaxed his tongue to follow hers back into her mouth again. So, she had accepted it now. Or rather, judging from the way she was breathing and the way her tongue was fondling his, she enjoyed it now.

...

"Why me?" she asked him when they were having lunch together again in his London home. "Why do you want to be together with me? How can you be so sure?"

"Because you belong to me", he answered without hesitation.

That made her quiet for a moment, looking at him in astonishment. "Do I? Is that what you think? I think I am my own person."

"Of course you are", he softened it. "But you belong to me also. As I belong to you."

"Do you?" she smiled at that. "I like that better. But you are very much your own person too. So I think you are avoiding the question. Why me?"

"Alright then. It is because I love you. Haven't I told you?"

"You have. But I still don't know why."

He really didn't know himself either. Why did he love her so much? What was it she had that no other woman had? But he had to answer this somehow, she seemed to be in a very persistent mood.

"Because you are friendly and funny and lovely and intelligent and sweet and adorable and beautiful."

That made her smile. A broad, happy smile.

"You really think I am all those things, don't you? I like that. And I think that you are all those things also. But most of all I think you are a very kind man."

He smiled back at her. Perhaps the thing she had that no other woman had was his love. Maybe it was as simple as that.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! And thank you still more for reviewing!


	18. A Family Outing

Sir Jonathan and Lady Elizabeth had a couple of days left in London before their journey to Locksley. They spent those days looking at the town. They saw new buildings and constructions and other things that had changed during Elizabeth's almost twenty years away from London.

"You know they opened a railroad below ground in January?" he asked her. "From Paddington to Farringdon Street."

"Yes, I read about that in the paper. It's an interesting idea, isn't it? Have you tried going by it?"

"Yes, I have. I went with it the first week it was open, just for fun."

"What was it like? Was it scary?" She looked at him with her blue eyes full of wonder.

"Not really. It was just a tunnel. A lot of smoke, of course, even though they try to clean the smoke before they let it out."

"Do you think I should go by it? Would you go there with me?"

"It is not all that interesting, really. Just trains, only that they are in tunnels. And it gets quite foggy and smoky in there, and crowded. It isn't really worth the bother."

Then he added, once again looking deep into her wonderful blue eyes: "I'd rather go someplace where I can kiss you."

...

On the morning of the agreed day Sir Jonathan was at the train station, heading for his estate in Yorkshire. He was accompanied by the woman he had decided was going to become his wife and five other members of her large family.

He really enjoyed having all these relatives coming with them, although he had only invited them not to jeopardize Elizabeth's reputation. Seeing her with them made him see aspects of her he didn't see when they were alone.

And - he had to admit - he liked it all the better because he was the only grown up male in the company. There were the two small children, himself and the four beautiful young ladies. The most beautiful of them all was of course his Elizabeth. The ladies were like a bunch of flowers in their wide crinolines, their skirts covered only partly by their darker coats. Celia wore a pink skirt, Christin a red one, the short Louisa had a dark blue one, and the tall Elizabeth a very pale blue one with a beautiful pattern of white flowers.

Lady Louisa, Henrik's wife, handed little Isabella over to Sir Jonathan on the platform while she climbed into the carriage. While he held the little girl during those short moments he wondered when he was last holding a small child in his arms. Had he ever done that, he wondered? He had no younger brothers or sisters, no cousins, no nieces and nephews. So perhaps this was the first time he held a small child like this, he thought, as he handed the three-year-old girl back to her mother in the train-carriage. The five-year-old Martin climbed into the carriage himself of course, as the big boy he was.

Having a family with Elizabeth was an important part of Jonathan's dreams about her, although he would of course love her just as much even if they never got any children. He had noticed how very good and tender she was with Henrik's and Louisa's children, so he was sure that she would be a good mother. He hoped he would be able to make her a mother, and he hoped that she would want that also. He hoped they would have at least one child.

But maybe she was tired of children, having so many younger siblings.

...

Sir Jonathan realised he would be getting more relatives than he ever had before, when he married Elizabeth. She had a mother and a father in India as well, and two more brothers in London, Robert and Peter, that he knew superficially, although not as well as he knew Henrik. They were professional men, one was a doctor, the other a lawyer, and they were both of them married and the oldest one had children. Elizabeth's youngest brother George was still at university.

It also made him realise that she had a lot more to offer him than her lovely self, the possibility of children and a dowry that would probably be very small - not that he cared about that. Henrik's and Elizabeth's parents were not wealthy, and they had two other daughters to get settled, as well as the son who was still at university. Their father was the fifth son of a baronet, with no chance of inheriting the title and the estate.

Being related to the Kempell family would be very good for him, Jonathan thought. They were nice people and highly respected. It was also nice to have some relatives, he had never had many and for quite some time now he had been the only surviving member of his family.

All the Kempells that he had met so far while courting Elizabeth had been very friendly and welcoming towards him. They all seemed to accept and even be happy about his interest in her.

...

During the train journey Louisa and her two children were looking out the window at everything that was passing by outside. The children were wide-eyed and full of excitement, it was obvious that this was a big adventure for them. It was the first train journey in their young lives.

Celia and Christin were discussing what had happened on the ball they had been to the day before. They talked in some length about the lovely dresses, the beautiful music, the men who had danced with them. Then they started discussing the next ball they were invited to, their hopes for it, what they were going to wear and what kind of hair-does they would have.

While Jonathan listened absent-mindedly to Elizabeth's sisters, his thoughts began to wander. She had asked him some days ago why he loved her, and he thought about that now, sitting there opposite her in the train compartment, and quite unable to take his eyes from her lovely face. What was it really that he loved in her?

It wasn't her height, although that was the first thing that had made him notice her. He liked very much that she was taller than him. It wasn't just that he didn't mind it or accepted it, he liked it. But he couldn't be so shallow, to fall in love with a woman only because she was more than six foot tall.

He liked her face also, her many different smiles, and the confident way she had looked at him when he went to get her over that dance-floor. By now he knew that her confidence was mingled with quite a large bit of vulnerability, but that only made him love her all the more.

Maybe he shouldn't analyze so much. He actually loved everything about her.

He really thought that she belonged to him also, as he had told her the other day, however much that had hit the wrong chord in her independent soul. And he belonged to her, if only she would have him. They were simply meant for each other.

As he kept looking at her across the compartment he was suddenly captured by a very strong urge to kiss her. They hadn't had an opportunity to kiss each other that day, and he missed that very much. How wonderful she was to kiss! How wonderful it would be to take off her clothes and caress all the sweet parts of her that were now hidden underneath! But he couldn't kiss her here, of course not, let alone undress her. He really had to calm down.

He was going to have her soon enough, after all, he told himself. Well, maybe not soon _enough_, but soon.

...

Why her? Why did he love _her_? Elizabeth had asked Jonathan that question a couple of days ago, and she still wondered. What was it she had that no one else had ever noticed but that had made him so sure right from the beginning? It remained a mystery to her. Maybe she shouldn't analyze so much. Love wasn't mathematics, there was no right answer that you would always get to if you thought in the right way.

She oughtn't to question him like that, either, it might make him wonder himself. She should really just accept it. He loved her, he was a wonderful man, kind, good-looking, funny, and, yes, if she dared to put it so boldly even to herself, a wonderful kisser. She knew she didn't have anyone to compare with, but she was sure no one could possibly be better. She was very lucky. And very happy.

Maybe she should just let it all happen, stop thinking so much. Let him show her his houses, let him kiss her, kiss him back. And when - or rather _if_ - he proposed to her, she should be ready to answer. Ready to answer: 'Yes'.

...

When they moved from the train to his carriage, he managed to lean close to her and whisper in her ear.

"I love you so much, Elizabeth! And I long so very much to kiss you!"

She smiled at him, a soft tender smile.

"So do I", she said softly. "And so do I."

...

The trip in his carriage from the train station to Locksley was quite a long one. Little Isabella fell asleep in her mother's lap. Martin was pointing to and asking about all the strange things he saw on the side of the road. Jonathan tried to answer in a way that could be understood by a five-year-old.

Elizabeth was quiet, thinking about how good Jonathan was with children. Remarkably so, considering that he had no brothers or sisters. She realized this whole journey was intended for her, to let her see the countryside as well as the house. She ought to look out of the window, enjoy the scenery, but her eyes kept wandering back to that handsome man who was talking so friendly to the little boy. He wants children, she thought. He will be a wonderful father. She hoped she would be able to give him some children, at least one. She would hate to disappoint him, in that way or any other.

If he did marry her. She had to remind herself once again that he hadn't proposed yet.

...

When the carriage turned around a bend, she saw it in the distance. She had wondered about it ever since the ladies at the card-table spoke about it on Sarah Hatfield's ball. Brown and white and big as a castle. It looked just like a picture from a book of fairy-tales, as it captured the last beams of the afternoon sun.

The gingerbread-house!

...

AN: Thank you for reading! And a big thank you for the lovely reviews!

I didn't realise until now that ladies wore crinolines in those days. I guess that would make kissing more difficult. But 'where there's a will there's a way'.

There is a new wave of Edith/Anthony stories on FF right now. Some of them are so good it almost puts me off publishing the rest of this story. But at least I have managed to write it from a very different angle from all other stories. Without being very much AU.

And since I can't stop writing I might as well continue publishing.


	19. The Gingerbread House

Train journeys were fast but dirty, because of all the smoke from the engines, but they were a blessing nevertheless, Sir Jonathan thought. Before the railroads were built he had made the journey to and from London by stage-coach, and that had been slow and tedious, and not all that clean either.

The four ladies were given a guest-room each, Louisa a large one with two small extra beds for the children. There was plenty of hot water and towels brought up to them all, so they could wash away the dust from their journey.

A little later they were all of them sitting in the saloon chatting and having tea.

"I can take you all for a tour of the house in a little while, if you like", he said then.

All the ladies agreed that it would be nice to do that.

"But first I want to show you the book-keeping, Elizabeth. Do you like figures?", he asked.

"Does Elizabeth like figures?" Celia mocked. "Does birds fly? She lives for mathematics."

"She really does", Christin added. "She buys magazines about mathematics. In German."

"You don't know at all who you are courting, do you, Sir Jonathan?" Celia added with a wry smile. "Otherwise you wouldn't ask a question like that."

"She can spend whole days scrabbling figures and doing calculations, just for fun", Christin teased. "She _is_ a strange sort."

Elizabeth felt very unhappy about her sisters' bantering. For the first time in her life she felt embarrassed about being the person she was. Maybe he wouldn't like to kiss a woman who could understand differential calculus and such things. Perhaps he would find that very unladylike.

But Sir Jonathan only looked at her admiringly.

"Really? I am impressed!" he said. "I'm not at all on your level in mathematics then, I never got much further than multiplication and division. But I know how to keep books and calculate percentages. So maybe you would like to see the book-keeping then? Even if it is not in German."

So she followed him into his library. It was a big, cosy room, with many book-shelves and a big fire-place. She liked it at once. There were plenty of books on the shelves. She was really looking forward to exploring this room in a little more detail later on.

She wondered if he was really going to show her his book-keeping or if it was only an excuse to get her away from the others so he could kiss her. They had done a lot of kissing in libraries by now.

But - somewhat to her disappointment - he really got out his ledgers and started explaining how it was done to her. She was a quick learner, and soon she had grasped what the different figures meant. After a while she understood both that Sir Jonathan had a well-kept estate that brought in a good income, and that his books were in good order.

"You learn fast", he said. "Well, you can see that I will be able to provide for a wife and a family, if I ever...It is not lack of means that has kept me from marrying...it is rather that I haven't met any...until now..."

He was quiet for a short time, deciding that he would have to wait until they were back in London before he proposed to her. He had to buy her a ring. So he'd better not say more than that right now.

They were both silent, both a little embarrassed. She was thinking over what he had just said. Was it at all possible to misunderstand?

She really didn't care very much about his book-keeping or income. She would be happy with him anywhere. The London house was more than big enough for her, she would be happy with him in a one bedroom flat, doing all the cooking and cleaning herself. And this house was so big, it looked more like a castle than anything else. It kind of intimidated her. Was she really meant to live in such grand circumstances?

Henrik had managed to buy his big house in London through his skill in business, and it was his only house, where he and his family lived all the year. Robert and Peter lived in smaller houses with less staff. But this man had a house in London, almost as big as Henrik's, beside this gigantic house in the countryside.

He must think I want him for his money, she thought then. When in reality I want him for his kisses. And she thought maybe she should tell him so, but she didn't dare.

Well, no matter. It was _his_ house, and he got his income from the estate. She wanted to be with him. She would have to adjust.

"I think I have seen enough of your book-keeping now", she said a little later. She hesitated a moment then, wondering if she dared to say what she was thinking now. Then she _did_ say it.

"I would like to kiss you now. I never kissed you in _this_ library."

...

Next morning they were all having breakfast together. They had seen the house now and in the afternoon they would go around the estate together in his carriage.

There was some business he had to attend to while he was there. He had talked to his steward for an hour, and also written a few letters. Now he sat down in his library, filling in the latest figures in his book-keeping. The others were outside, the children running around playing on the lawn, but Elizabeth sat reading on the sofa. He looked up at her every now and then, feeling so proud and relaxed to have her sitting there. Once she looked up from her book in the same instant and caught his eye. They smiled at each other, a little embarrassed, just like that first evening when they were dancing together.

"I have to look at you once in a while to make sure you are not only a dream", he said. "And when I'm finished with this I would like very much to kiss you. If you can spare the time."

She smiled happily at that, and looked down at her book again.

...

When his book-keeping was finished, and they had kissed each other thoroughly, they went out to the others. The two children were playing with a couple of kittens on the lawn.

"A girl and a boy", Jonathan said to Elizabeth. "Wouldn't you like to have that?"

She looked into his smiling face, was she wrong or was he looking a little shy again?

"Well, at least I know that you would!" she ventured.

That made him smile still broader.

"Yes, it would be nice", he agreed. "Having some little ones playing here more permanently."

...

Later in the afternoon, after their tour of the estate, Elizabeth and Jonathan were alone together in the library again. Elizabeth was looking with interest on the books in the bookshelves, while he told her about how he had organized them.

Celia, Christin and Louisa were in the old nursery. They sat there chatting while watching Martin and Isabella playing with Jonathan's old toys. There were many toys, the children played with a big box of wooden building-blocks, a small horse and carriage and some tin soldiers.

It was obvious to Elizabeth that her relatives were trying to leave her alone with Jonathan as much as was possible without seeming impolite. They wanted to give her a chance to see what it would be like to live here with him.

She thought about that. Could she really be happy in this quiet place after the hustle and bustle of India, she wondered. Would she ever be able to get along with the women of the local gentry? Those people who would have regarded her as a fallen woman if she had spent a night alone with Jonathan in opposite sides of this gigantic house. It seemed to her that they were people with much too much idle time that they didn't know how to use. Would she become like that if she married him? An idle gossiper? She would hate that.

But what would she do with all her time, especially if they didn't get any children? His estate was so well-managed, even the things usually done by a woman. He obviously didn't need her help for that. His servants were used to taking their orders from him. Of course she could read, and study, but she also had a need to feel useful.

She had to ask him, but in a way that wasn't presuming, which wasn't easy.

"If...you...decided to...marry...someybody..." she started tentatively.

He looked at her attentively to show her that he was listening. He didn't want to interrupt her, since this was obviously hard for her to say. And probably necessary for him to hear.

"Well, what would you expect...your wife...to do? Apart from...love you and..." she trailed off. "What would be...her work?"

And then she added with a small sigh, looking down at the floor and shaking her head slightly to get the words out a little faster: "Because if she had nothing important to do she might get very bored."

He thought for a while before he answered that. This was obviously important to her.

"I haven't really thought about that", he admitted then. "It depends on the wife I guess. But there are always things to do on an estate like this. If I married a wife who was good at mathematics I might expect her to take over the book-keeping, maybe improve it. If she would like that. But there are other things also. Correspondence and suchlike, ordering supplies...There are hundreds of things..."

He smiled a little mischievously at her, thinking he would answer the question in the way she hadn't asked it.

"Don't worry, we'll find something. Something important, I promise", he said. "You know I can't have you bored, I want you to be happy! And we will have to spend most of the year here. You are so intelligent, I'm sure you will be very useful and have many good ideas of your own, once you get settled."

So he had said it! It was not a hypothetical wife he wanted to please, it was her - her as his wife. It still wasn't a proposal, but that would come, she was sure of it now.

At least she was sure of it for a while.

...

Jonathan had thought about inviting some locals there for dinner on the second day, to get her to know some of them, but he decided it was better to wait. He didn't know how to introduce her and her relatives, since nothing was decided between them yet. The notice would be too short also, and many people were in London for the season. So it was just him and the four young ladies dining together the second evening also. The little ones had their meal a little earlier and were already sleeping in their beds.

He sat there in silence, listening to the three sisters telling Louisa some stories about life in India, looking at Elizabeth and thinking about how very happy he was.

"Thank you all for coming here!" he said at last. "It has been a pleasure for me to have you here."

...

The next morning Jonathan and Elizabeth were alone at the breakfast table for more than half an hour. Elizabeth suspected that her relatives had decided that she should have a chance to see how it was to have breakfast alone with him. It was very thoughtful of them, of course, but it was not really the same thing as having breakfast after sleeping together anyhow.

...

That last day, after they had packed their things, they wandered in the park and the orchard close to the house. She liked this place very much, it was so peaceful here, despite the children running around and laughing. And the view of the surrounding landscape was magnificent.

"Don't you feel lonely, living here all by yourself?" she asked him tenderly.

"Sometimes. But mostly I have too much to do. And there are dinner parties and such things to attend. And also, I'm in London quite often, so I usually appreciate the stillness and peacefulness here."

They walked on in silence for some time.

"Well, my darling", he said at last. "Have you seen all you need to see of Locksley now?"

She wanted to tell him that she hadn't really needed to see it at all. That she didn't care where she lived, if only he lived there with her. That she wanted to marry him no matter what. That she loved him desperately and didn't know how she had ever been able to live and be happy without him and his kisses. That she never wanted to do without him again.

But this was still not a proposal. So the only answer she gave him was a short: "Yes."

...

AN: Thank you for reading! And thank you so much for all the lovely reviews to that last chapter! They really did wonders for my confidence as a writer, but I don't know if they made my writing any better. Still, you made my day, all of you.

And I don't want anyone to think that I don't appreciate reading all the good Anthony/Edith stories written by others! Because I do, I really do! I'm very happy when I see a new Anthony/Edith fic, or a new chapter in any of my favourite stories.


	20. Interlude: Lady Edith, 1920

Lady Edith's grandmother had often told her about her very successful first season in London 1863. Edith was pretty sure that the old dear was exaggerating. It was hard to believe that Granny had ever been the ravishing young beauty she claimed she had been.

Just a few days ago Granny had told Edith another story about her first season, a story Edith had never heard before. Sir Anthony's parents had met on the very first débutante ball Lady Violet had been to, the same one where she herself had first met Patrick Crawley, her future husband and Edith's grandfather. Granny had said that the Strallans had been the big scandal of that ball, dancing together for most of the evening. They were both too old for that really, Jonathan was somewhere around fifty and Elizabeth maybe forty.

"I never saw any of them at a ball for the rest of the season", Granny said. "The next ball Elizabeth's sisters were chaperoned by Lady Louisa, their sister-in-law. Sir Jonathan and Lady Elizabeth got married soon after. I guess she was happy she had finally found someone who wasn't embarrassed to be with her. She was ridiculously tall, taller than her son, I think, at least she was quite a bit taller than her husband. Probably the tallest woman in England, ever."

"I think they _had_ to marry as well", Lady Violet continued with a disapproving look. "Their daughter, Emilia Cheetwood, was born at least a month too early after their wedding. Imagining that, such old people not being able to control themselves!"

Edith had found this story very romantic. And it was nice to know that Anthony's parents and her own grandparents had met at the same ball. It showed that she and Anthony were ment for each other, she thought.

...

Edith herself had never been a success at a ball. She was a débutante in 1912, the same year as the Titanic had gone down with Patrick Crawley and his father on board. After that no one had really cared about the London season and Edith going to débutante balls, least of all herself. It had all been forgotten until the next year, and her family hadn't made much fuss of it that year either. Not at all like Sybil's first season the year after that.

They seemed to have expected Edith to be a failure and a disappointment, right from the beginning. And perhaps she had been that.

Until she was chosen by Sir Anthony Strallan.

...

Maybe Edith's family still thought her a failure, but at least she was going to get married tomorrow.

Edith couldn't sleep the night before her wedding. She was too full of happiness and excitement. Tomorrow her adult life was finally, finally going to begin. She was going to become a married woman, married to sweet and wonderful Anthony Strallan. She was going to start living her life with someone who loved and adored her and thought she was lovely and funny and beautiful. And who had told her that she had given him back his life.

It was so wonderful, so romantic. So perfect. She had such a beautiful wedding gown, she was sure he would like it. And she was going to wear the Grantham tiara. Anthony always noticed what she wore, it was such a blessing to be loved by a man who was so attentive of her. A man who didn't think she was part of the furniture.

And then they were going to Italy together! She couldn't think of a place she would rather go with him. The music, the paintings, the old buildings. It would be wonderful.

After that she was coming back to be the lady of the house at Locksley. And perhaps - hopefully - the mother of her and Anthony's children.

...

Lady Edith couldn't sleep. It was two o'clock in the morning the night after her wedding. It was supposed to be her wedding night, but she was still a virgin. She could do nothing but lay there in bed, eyes wide open. She was sure this wasn't what Sybil had meant when she asked which night she wouldn't be able to sleep. And this was supposed to be the happiest day, and the happiest night, of her life!

But it hadn't been as it should have been. Not at all like it should have been.

Her mind was full of conflicting emotions. Love and fear and humiliation. But not hate, at least she felt no hatred for Anthony. She knew that she could never hate him, whatever he did to her. And she knew she really had pushed him. Pushed him and pushed him again. She would never have done that if she hadn't been so sure that he loved her. But she wasn't so sure about that any longer.

She was still sure _she_ loved him, though.

The wedding had started out well enough. He had been standing there waiting for her at the altar, taller than all other men. He had smiled at her and called her his sweet one.

She had been so happy when Travis started the ceremony. Then something absolutely incomprehensible happened.

Anthony suddenly blurted out: "I can't do this!"

Then he started to talk a lot of nonsense about it all being wrong. About him not wanting her to waste her life on him. Not wanting her to throw away her life.

It was all so incredible. Because it was exactly the opposite of what she thought she was doing. With him she was at long last _getting_ a life. She would be able to move away from Downton where she was constantly looked down upon, and move in with him, who loved and appreciated her.

Didn't he notice how happy he made her?

So Edith grasped his hand in hers and held it tight. She didn't dare to let go of it, she was so afraid he would leave her. She tried to tell him how happy he made her, but it was difficult to find the right words.

Then she heard Reverend Travis say: "Might I suggest we all take a step back..."

...

And now she was lying here in bed. Wide awake. Still a virgin.

It was not at all what it should have been, but then again it could have been so much worse.

So she reached out her hand and stroke his sleeping face, careful not to wake him. And she placed another gentle kiss on her husband's cheek.

She was still a virgin, but she was no longer a spinster. She was a wife.

Lady Edith Strallan.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! And thank you even more for reviewing!


	21. The Best Proposal Ever

Late that evening they were back in London. Sir Jonathan felt that it was upon time to propose to Lady Elizabeth. He counted the days he had known her, and found out they were only nine in all. But they had been together almost all of that time, except the nights of course, and he felt he had given her the chance to get to know him and also to know what she could expect from a life married to him.

Well, at least what she could expect from the aspects of marriage that were considered proper to try out before they were actually married. And those aspects that weren't considered so were - of course - the main reasons that he wanted to marry her as soon as possible. But he also longed to have her live with him, to wake up with her in the morning, have breakfast with her. It had been so nice to have her living and breakfasting with him at Locksley, though it wasn't really the same as if they had been married. And he did look forward to be able to see her without having to call on Henrik Kempell's house every day, like a besotted schoolboy. He wouldn't be surprised if Henrik's staff laughed at him behind his back, but he didn't really mind that either. As long as she loved him and wanted him, nothing else really mattered. And mostly he was quite sure that she did.

He had to decide where he was going to propose to her. It had to be somewhere where they wouldn't be disturbed. And that was not so easy to find in a big city like London. The best place to do it was probably in his own house, in the library or perhaps in the little saloon.

...

The next day he invited her to drink tea in the little saloon. He had told the maids to put in some extra flowers. He had butterflies in his belly, what if she said no? Suddenly he didn't feel at all confident.

They had their tea in an unusual silence. There was none of their usual happy bantering and none of the more serious talks and discussions that they also had. It seemed that she was also affected by his nervous mode.

At last he decided that he had to have this over with. He was only getting more and more nervous.

"Do you know if there are rules about how long a man has to know a woman before he is allowed to ask her to marry him?" he asked her then.

"No, I don't", she answered, feeling rather embarrassed. "But I'm no expert. No one ever proposed to me."

Now it comes, she thought. She had waited for this, longed for it even. But the only feeling it gave her right now was a slight panic.

"Well, I have known you for almost two weeks now, which I hope is enough. And from the first time I looked into your eyes I knew that I wanted to marry you, so I have really waited for quite a long time. So if you don't mind, I am going to propose to you now."

She gave no other answer to that than a very nervous smile, so he bent down on one knee beside the sofa, in the usual position for a proposal. He took one of her hands in his.

"My darling Elizabeth, please marry me!" he said. "I love you so very much! Please be my wife, you will make me so happy! I will try my very best to make you happy too."

And he smiled up at her expectantly, his wonderful blue eyes full of love.

She had expected this, but she still wasn't ready. She was almost as lost for words as she had been the first time he had kissed her. But she _had _to answer this. She cleared her throat and with a lot of stammering and stuttering she at last managed to get some kind of answer out.

"Of course...I...I want to...oh...I...I love you!"

"I think that means yes", he said, smiling up at her again, a little hesitantly. She gave him a reassuring smile and a quick series of nods, so he got up again and sat down beside her, searching his pockets for something. "I thought I had a ring somewhere, but I can't find it."

He was getting through all his many pockets, but he couldn't find it.

"Oh, damn it! Sorry about that...I could have proposed to you at Locksley if I hadn't needed a ring, and now I can't find the blo...I mean the thing. Made you wait for nothing!"

She just kept smiling at him. He was so adorable. So funny and so sweet and so handsome and so adorable. The panic and uneasiness she had felt was gone, now that it was all settled. All she felt was a complete happiness.

At long last he found the ring on the floor, it had obviously fallen out when he bent down to propose. He put it on her finger and it fitted a lot better than could be expected, since he hadn't known her size, only guessed.

"We can have it fixed at the jewelers if you want to", he said. "And now I must kiss you! A kiss is a very important part of a proposal."

So he took her face between his hands and pressed his lips to hers. By now there was no hesitancy on her part when the kiss deepened a little later and they started playing with their tongues in each other's mouths. That was the way they usually kissed each other by now, and she didn't find it strange at all. Only wonderful.

"It is the first time I have ever proposed to anyone", he said when they came up for air again. "I hope it wasn't too awful. Anyway, I will never improve, because I will never do it again. It really is you or no one for me, I think you know that."

"I think it was wonderful, you were wonderful", she said with a happy smile. "The best proposal ever in human history. Nothing could be improved. I am so very lucky that you want me. I love you so much."

And after that they both thought it was high time for another kiss.

...

Later, when she was back in her bed, after they had told all her relatives that they were engaged to be married, and also sent a telegram to her parents in India, she counted the days they had known each other. They were only ten. Quite a long time, he had called it. Well, maybe, if you are longing very much to spend all of your life with someone. And how he could call ten days almost two weeks when it was closer to one week she didn't know. But she suspected it was more due to wishful thinking than to lousy mathematics.

She had really had no hopes - no thoughts even - of getting married when it was decided that she and her sisters were going to London. The visit to the London season was intended to give her sisters a chance to find husbands in England. She herself had wanted to come with them to be able to revisit places she had liked in her childhood. And to follow her sisters around. She had known London, her sisters hadn't. Celia had only been a baby when the family moved to India, Christin was born in India.

And now, less than two weeks after they had arrived in London, she was engaged to be married. To a man who had picked her out - without a doubt it seemed - in a room full of young beauties. To a man who was the sweetest and loveliest and most adorable man she had ever met.

Life was really strange. And life was truly wonderful.

...

AN: Guess I'm sticking my neck out calling this chapter The Best Proposal Ever. But it is Elizabeth's opinion of Jonathan's proposal, not mine of my chapter, although I had fun writing it.

Thank you for reading! Thank you very, very much for reviewing!

The last chapter, chapter 20, was one of the first chapters I wrote of this story, although the bit about Lady Violet's unkind opinions of Sir Anthony's parents was added after I finished chapter 19. I know what happened during the wedding in my story, and I promise I will tell you eventually.

Baron, I wouldn't be able to throw a googly if my life depended on it! I'm hopeless with balls.


	22. Gifts

The six weeks between his proposal and their wedding felt very long for Sir Jonathan. So close and so far away.

He had stuck to his resolutions though, plenty of hugs and kisses, no touching of certain parts of her, no hands inside her clothes and no undressing. The only thing he hadn't managed to keep was that when they were once kissing and caressing, sitting beside each other on his sofa, one of his hands had wandered on its own accord to one of her breasts and stroked it very tenderly for quite a long while. She hadn't objected to that, in fact she had first gasped and then purred almost like a little kitten at it. His hand had liked the feel of her breast, his ears had liked the little purr, so he decided that a fiancé was allowed to do a little more than a man who wasn't engaged to the woman he fondled. So caressing her breasts, on top of her clothes, was added to the permitted list.

She would probably have enjoyed his hands under her clothes also, but he didn't dare to put them there. He was very anxious not to offend her, and besides, he was not sure of how far he could go without losing control of himself. Those crinolines that she and other women were wearing made it virtually impossible to touch anything below her waist, and perhaps that was as well, considering what was underneath and the problems he had making his hands behave.

He had made up his mind, quite firmly, that he wouldn't seduce her before their marriage. Because even if she got carried away and wouldn't object at the time, she might regret it afterwards, and he didn't want that to happen. He wanted her to trust him. He could still hear how anxiously she had whispered about her will being the problem when he had told her he would never do anything against her will.

He actually wanted her to trust him more than she trusted herself.

...

There were other things beside wedding arrangements happening during those weeks. One of them was Elizabeth's thirty-fifth birthday. Jonathan was invited to a small family celebration in Henrik's house. All her relatives were coming, except her parents in India of course.

...

The day before Elizabeth's birthday Jonathan went out to buy her some presents. First he went to a bookseller.

He asked the young man in the bookshop if he had anything that might interest a lady who enjoyed mathematics. The young man looked at Jonathan as if he suspected that he was trying to make fun of him.

"These are all we have in mathematics", he said haughtily and got some rather dusty volumes out from under the counter where they were hidden away as if they were pornography.

Most of the titles where in German and other foreign languages. Jonathan was most definitely out of his depth. But when he found a booklet with an English title that didn't help much either.

_'On the Comparison of Transcendents, with Certain Applications to the Theory of Definite Integrals'_, was the title, and it was written by someone called George Boole and printed a few years earlier. Well, that one must be in English at least, or was it really? He looked inside it and it was full of strange figures and formulas. He didn't understand many words of the text either, it could as well have been written in Chinese.

He contemplated those books and booklets for a while. Then he gave up. He didn't want to buy anything she already had, or anything that was too easy or difficult for her. It was all of it too difficult for _him_, at least.

"Do you have any new novels?" he asked the haughty young seller at last, feeling very sheepish.

...

Jonathan gave Elizabeth two presents, one very small parcel, and one a little bigger.

The bigger parcel was a book. 'Sylvia's Lovers' by Elizabeth Gaskell.

"I liked North and South. And Cranford also", she said. "So this was a good choice. Thank you ever so much!"

"I hope it's any good. I haven't read it", he said. "I bought it because it's new, so I could be sure you hadn't read it. It was fresh from the print."

Then he added, with a tender smile: "At least the author has a beautiful name."

"Gaskell?" she asked. But of course she knew he meant Elizabeth.

...

"I tried to buy you a book about mathematics, but I didn't understand a word of it. So I didn't dare to."

She was moved by that, he was really considerate. But she was also glad he hadn't bought her any book of that kind. She already had most of the ones she wanted and she was sure he wouldn't understand what to buy. She had to have her books sent for from India, she realized, along with all her other things.

...

In the smaller parcel there was a necklace with a small golden locket in the form of a heart.

"To show you that my heart belongs to you", he said with a loving smile. "You can open it and put something in, if you like, but only something very small."

"It is absolutely lovely! So very sweet! Thank you so very much!" And she let him hang it around her neck.

"And you know my heart belongs to you also", she added. "Now and forever."

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you so much for reviewing!

George Boole was an English mathematician and philosopher and the inventor of Boolean logic, which is the basis of how computers work. He died of pneumonia in 1864, only forty-nine years old, after teaching a whole day in wet clothes after a downpour. Which makes this chapter sadder than I had intended.


	23. The Sixth Commandment

Sir Jonathan Strallan had always been a remarkably good-looking man. In his youth, he had the same effect on women as a lump of sugar has on flies. Not on all women of course, but on many enough for it to be quite noticeable.

He himself never noticed it though, and only took their attention as polite friendliness. He had never found anything that was remotely likely to attract women when he looked at his own face in the mirror.

He was now forty-five years old, and some of his attraction had worn out with the years. But to Lady Elizabeth, who hadn't known him when he was young, he was the most handsome man she had ever set eyes on. She couldn't understand why on earth he was so in love with _her_, when he probably could have whatever woman he wanted. But he _was_ in love with her, and she had learnt to trust that he really was, and appreciate it as the blessing it was.

...

Sir Jonathan, despite his advanced age, had no real experience of love-making.

Not that his future wife was going to be the first woman he would ever have physical intercourse with, but his earlier affairs were not exactly what you would call love-making. Because there was no love involved. Not from his side at any rate. Lust? Yes, of course, it would have been impossible otherwise. Love? No.

The first one had been a married woman more than double his age. She had children that were older than him, he was quite a young man at the time. It had been all her idea, although he hadn't been too reluctant to do as he was told. And maybe she loved him, but he certainly didn't love her back. But he was thankful to her, she taught him one or two things that were well worth knowing about the female body. She didn't care about his shyness and fumbling, which was a good thing. But, on the other hand, she had told him she found his behaviour during the act 'cute'. That had hurt his pride somehow, she looked at him as some kind of puppy when he had felt like a mixture of a lion and a gorilla. But on the whole it had been quite pleasurable, except that he was terrified to be found out by her husband. So he had ended the affair after just a few weeks.

The next one had been several years later and...Well, he didn't like to dwell upon those affairs. They were not many, only three in all, and he wasn't exactly proud of them. None of those other two affairs had actually been his idea from the beginning either, and all the women had been quite a bit older than him. But he enjoyed it while it lasted, he couldn't really complain. The latest affair was a bit more than ten years ago, he hadn't really felt tempted since then. Or maybe it was just that he hadn't _been_ tempted, rather. No one had tried to tempt him.

Those affairs were just never worth the complications. The first woman was not the only one to have a husband. Sir Jonathan had broken the sixth commandment more times than he cared to admit. Or was it the seventh, he wasn't quite sure. Well, he wasn't too religious anyway, so he didn't care much. And he didn't feel all that bad for their husbands either. He knew for sure he hadn't got any one of the women pregnant, and none of the husbands had ever found out about him. It wasn't his fault that they didn't keep their wives satisfied, and at least one of the men had an affair on the side himself, that Jonathan knew of. And, according to their wives, none of the other two was particularly faithful either, but maybe the women only said that to make him feel more at ease.

Sir Jonathan had never been with a prostitute, which was not uncommon among men in those days. It hadn't seemed right somehow, paying to use someone else's private parts. And he had never taken advantage of any of his staff, which was also quite common. He paid them for cooking and cleaning, not for doing things like that. He thought it would have differed very little from prostitution, if he had done that.

...

He didn't regret those few and far between sexual encounters during his life as a bachelor. Without them he would probably never have had the courage to go and claim Elizabeth when he saw her across that dance-floor. And without them he wouldn't have been so sure that the notions that women had no real sexual desire was just so much nonsense. Which was good to know since it made married life so much more interesting.

But then again, he only had to kiss Elizabeth to know that those ideas were utter nonsense.

...

He was sure he would never want to tell Elizabeth about these women. He was afraid of what she might think about him, and also about what she might think was proper for a married woman to do. He didn't want to put any ideas of that kind into her head.

Maybe he was a coward, but he also wanted to spare her feelings.

He thought about how he himself would feel if he was to find out that she had had lovers. Well, she was thirty-five, and hot-blooded enough, judging from the way she kissed him. She must have felt the urge. And as beautiful as she was, there must have been plenty of opportunities. But still, there was something about her, the way she had behaved when he first kissed her, that gave him a feeling that she had very little experience of that kind.

He found that the thought of her in somebody else's arms and bed, or even kissing someone else, was almost unbearable.

But he really found it very unfair that women should be looked down upon or even condemned for doing things that men could do as they pleased and even be admired for. He loved her so much, he wanted her so much. It didn't really matter to him what had happened to her before they met. Perhaps it would even be better if she had been with a lover or two, because then she wouldn't be a virgin, and he wouldn't have to hurt her during their wedding night. He dreaded the thought of hurting her very much.

But if she _had_ been with others, he knew for sure that he wouldn't like to hear anything about it. He would hate to be compared to anyone else, even if he won out in the comparison.

And he knew that once they were married he would strive very hard to keep her satisfied in every aspect of that word. He himself would have no problems whatsoever to stay faithful, and he so wished her to want to do the same. He loved her so very much, and was so afraid of disappointing her.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you very much for reviewing!

There was really a discussion around that time whether or not women had any sexual feelings. And, oddly enough, it seemed that some men would have preferred the women not to have any.

I had to get through the question of Sir Jonathan's earlier sexual experience in one way or another. It didn't feel right to take the easy way out and just ignore it, not in such a long story as this. I couldn't let him be a virgin at forty-five, and I don't think he behaves like one either, even if he sometimes is a little shy. It is bad enough that Lady Elizabeth was one at thirty-five, but men and women lived very different lives in those days.

And I really abhor prostitution, and wanted Sir Jonathan to do the same. So it had to be like this instead.

(There seem to be a disagreement about what is the sixth and what is the seventh commandment. When I was at school in Sweden I learnt that the sixth commandment was the one about adultery, easy to remember since six and sex is the same word in Swedish (sex). And I think it was probably the same in the Bible Jonathan used, but I'm not sure. So please tell me if I am wrong, and I will try to change it! I didn't mean that he had killed anybody.)

I think I have to tell you again that this is a fairy-tale and not a historical record. Nevertheless, I try to get the details correct.


	24. Interlude: Sir Anthony-Lady Edith, 1920

Sir Anthony's mother had told her six-year-old son how she had seen Locksley for the first time in the distance and thought it looked like a giant fairy-tale castle, made out of ginger-bread.

"Your daddy warned me not to eat it", she said with a loving smile. "The very first time I met him. So I guess I should warn you as well, my darling. Don't eat our house! You will destroy your teeth!"

Anthony laughed at that, such a funny idea. His parents were the funniest parents in the world. He knew other boys whose parents never played with them and only spoke to them to tell them to behave. He knew boys who were even afraid of their parents, especially of their fathers.

Little Anthony found that very strange, and he also felt a little sorry for those boys. He himself could never be afraid of his own parents, he was sure of that. His father was possibly the kindest grownup man on earth.

...

As Anthony was standing there in front of the altar, trying to make Edith understand that he couldn't marry her, and at the same time trying not to make her sad and trying to make her understand that it was all for her own good, he briefly wondered how that happy childhood could have changed into this very miserable and lonely grownup life.

He wondered why he couldn't believe that he would make Edith happy, when he loved her so much and she obviously thought he would do just that.

He then had his declarations interrupted, first by Edith's father, who said it was too late for this, then by Reverend Travis.

...

After telling everybody to step back, Reverend Travis ushered Lady Edit and Sir Anthony into the vestry.

"I give you fifteen minutes", he said. "Shall I stay to advice you?"

Lady Edith's despair suddenly changed into red hot anger.

"No!" she cried. "Get out of here at once and close the door behind you!"

She could see the Reverend flinch at that, and what was worse, she could also see sweet Anthony flinch. She really didn't mean to bully him into marrying her, but she needed a chance to make him see it her way. And she didn't have much time.

The Reverend did as he was told, and they were left alone together.

...

Edith sensed that hugging and kissing Anthony, telling him how much she loved him, would be of no use. He just wouldn't feel worthy of it and tell her again that she would be happier without him. She had to show him that what he was trying to do now was hurting _her_, that was the only thing that could possibly convince him.

She was still holding on to his hand, desperate not to let him go, as she started on her explanation.

"There is absolutely nothing you could possibly do to me during our marriage that would be worse than leaving me here alone by the altar today", she began, very earnestly. "Please understand that! There is nothing at all, unless you beat me."

"Of course I would never do that!" He was horrified by the idea. And that she could think him capable of something like that. He hated violence, and beating a woman was an unthinkable thing, let alone beating his darling Edith...

"Yes, of course not, I know that. You are not that kind of man at all, I wouldn't want to marry you if you were."

She was quiet for a short moment.

"You think you do this for me, but everyone else will think you do it because you discovered some horrible secret about me", she added then. "Don't you realize that?"

That shock him up. He hadn't thought about it in that way. He was going to hurt her whatever he did, it seemed.

"So please, my darling Anthony, marry me!" she pleaded. "I was so happy coming up the aisle and seeing you waiting there for me. I am so looking forward to being your wife. I am so looking forward to go with you to Italy on our honeymoon."

He felt his head spinning. He didn't know what to think. And how had she found out about Italy?

"But that was supposed to be a secret..." he muttered lamely.

"One secret that we were going to Italy, another that you weren't going to marry me at all. Well, that second secret you managed to keep a little better!" She couldn't help sounding bitter when she said that, although she tried very hard not to.

He felt his heart sink. She was right of course. What was the use of a secret honeymoon if there was no wedding?

"I know you love me!" she continued. "Don't deny it! You said I had given you back your life!"

He couldn't deny that of course, not without lying. He loved her so very much more than he loved himself. Dressed in that wonderful gown with the veil over her face and the sparkling tiara on her head she looked more beautiful and more vulnerable than he had ever seen her before. He loved her so much it hurt. He just wanted her to be happy. And that was exactly the reason that he wanted to give her up.

"But I am sure I can never make you happy! You deserve someone better. Can't you see that?" he pleaded.

"Yes, you can! Anthony, please _never_ tell me I have no right to want _you_! That is for _me_ to decide, not you. And I do want you. You are the sweetest and kindest man I have ever met. I have never been happier than this last month. I love you! You care so much about me."

"But, Edith..."

"No one else ever has, really. No other man. But if you don't want me... If you think I'm too ugly..."

This was wholly unbelievable, he thought. What was she saying?

"Ugly? What utter rubbish!" It was his turn to be angry now.

"Why don't you want me then?" she asked, looking defiantly up at him with her tearful brown eyes.

"You are so, so beautiful", he continued, avoiding the question. "More than ever today. I have never seen anything more beautiful than you in that gown! Never in my life!"

"So you do want me then?" she ventured, a little hesitantly.

He could have denied that if he had been a better liar. But lying wasn't something his childhood had prepared him for either. So he just stayed silent, looking into her eyes, unable to turn away his gaze.

"You do!" she said triumphantly. And he couldn't help smiling, a very tired smile. This woman outwitted him every time, it seemed.

...

She noticed how extremely tired he looked. He had probably not been able to sleep for quite some time. That explained why he was acting so strange, at least it partly explained it.

She suddenly just wanted to get away from all this. But not from him.

"If you don't want to marry me, then let's just leave together through that door", she said, pointing to the narrow door in the other end of the vestry. "I love you so much, lets just go to Locksley together and make love, and then we go to Italy. I really don't care about any wedding. If you don't want me as your wife, then let me at least be your mistress!"

For some reason this made him burst out laughing. A bitter laugh, but still a laugh. This was really unexpected, she had rather thought he would be shocked by what she had said.

She felt such relief, though. If he could laugh at a thing like this, he wasn't going to leave her. She was suddenly sure of that.

He was silent for a long while, thinking it all over, and she kept silent to let him think. His head was still spinning, but he realized that she was right. It was too late to call off the wedding, it would only hurt her still more. He saw a quick vision of Edith crying alone in her lovely gown on her bed in Downton, and that thought made his heart break. He just couldn't do that to her. Even her father had said it was too late. Besides, he certainly wanted her and he really had no right to decide for Edith. If she was foolish enough to want him...

He was left with a decision that he found terribly wrong but wanted more than anything else. He just had to swallow his pride and make the best of this as it was.

And for some strange reason that resolution made a very quick wave of happiness rush through his body and then be gone. It was gone, but he knew it would come again. If only he hadn't been so extremely tired...

"Alright, have it your way then! I will go back out there and marry you", he said at last. "And you will only have yourself to blame."

He looked at her as if he found her very childish and annoying.

She felt she shouldn't press him any more. So she just said: "Thank you, Anthony. Thank you so much."

"But first there is a thing I want to show you", he continued.

Then he went over to the other side of the vestry, and opened that narrow door. It was a closet, filled to the brim with liturgical clothing.

"So you see, there is no chance for us to sneak out from this room unnoticed", he said softly. "And they would never let us leave together through church without being married, not after what I did. Your chastity was never in much of a danger. But I am very honored by your offer. Though I never would have accepted it, as I think you well know."

He was quiet for a moment.

"Maybe we could try to hide in that closet", he added then, a little mischievously. "But then we would have to take the clothes out, so I guess Travis would find us at once." He gave her a wry smile that almost looked like the loving smiles he used to give her.

Edith smiled back at him. She even giggled at the thought of playing hide and seek with the Reverend. At least Anthony hadn't lost his strange sense of humor.

...

Anthony straightened his back.

"Let's get in there again, my sweet, and have this done with", he said very softly. "This is going to be a very long day, but it wont get any easier if we wait. And I _do_ love you so very much. I just think you deserve better."

He seemed more resigned than enthusiastic, but at least he had agreed to go through with it. And she could see how exhausted he was. Making him understand how good it was for her to be with him had to wait until later. Tonight, when she would have him in bed with her...

"I think we'd better hold hands, so they will know what we have decided. If you let me?" he said shyly. Her only answer to that was one soft peck on his cheek through her veil, just at the corner of his mouth.

"Stiff upper lip!" he whispered to her. "My dearest darling."

He opened the door, and then he took her hand in his to step out in front of the wide-eyed congregation again. At first they could hear a steady murmur, the sound of blended conversations, but once the two of them could be seen coming there, hand in hand and softly smiling, all sounds died down and the whole church was suddenly absolutely silent.

"Sorry everyone", Anthony said with an apologetic smile, before he turned to the altar and let go of Edith's hand. Anna rushed forward to straighten out Edith's gown.

"I am sorry about the delay, Reverend, and I promise my behavior wont be repeated", Anthony said. "Please start the ceremony again!"

...

AN: Thank you for reading! And thank you very much for all lovely reviews!

I solved the problem about the commandments by letting Jonathan be unsure about the numbering, one short sentence added to chapter 23. Wikipedia only confused me further, and I liked my title as it was.


	25. Wedding Preparations

When the three Kempell sisters were sent to London for the season, they had brought a letter to their brother Henrik from their father where Henrik was asked to decide if any suitor that might be interested in Celia or Christin was a good match and should be given permission to marry the girl in question. Henrik knew the people in London, and their father had been away for such a long time.

Their father had not written anything about suitors to Elizabeth - the thought that she might get any had obviously never crossed his mind.

...

Jonathan never asked her family's permission to marry Elizabeth. He couldn't really ask her father, who was so far away, but there was also nothing in the law to say the father had to be consulted. Elizabeth was of age and had the right to marry anyone she choose, so he only found it necessary to ask her. When she had accepted his proposal they only told her relatives that they were engaged.

This was a time when a marriage was looked upon as a business transaction, but Jonathan didn't look at it like that. He didn't need any money, he had more than enough for both of them, he didn't care about any settlements or such things. Locksley was entailed, and in case Sir Jonathan died without a son it would probably go to some distant relative he didn't even know of, if there even was one. But the house in London was his own, together with enough income for Elizabeth and any daughters they might get to live a comfortable life if he would die before her. So if Elizabeth's parents wanted to give her any money, it was up to them, and it would remain her money. All he wanted was Elizabeth's sweet self, and the only person that he thought had the right to give him that was Elizabeth herself.

He loved her, he belonged to her, she loved him, she belonged to him. It was for the two of them to decide if they should marry, no one else had the right to have any say in that.

But Henrik was afraid that his father might be offended by Sir Jonathan's attitude. So Henrik sent his father a telegram telling him that Sir Jonathan was a good man, and probably didn't mean this as a slight. His father had known the older Strallan, Jonathan's father Sir Philip, and agreed that they were good people. And he knew that Sir Philip only had this one son, so Jonathan had inherited both Locksley and the title and also a house in London, if he remembered it correctly. He couldn't wish for a better husband for his eldest daughter, especially since he had never had enough imagination to think that she would ever have any husband at all.

So Elizabeth's parents sent a telegram to Sir Jonathan with a whole-hearted blessing to the marriage, welcoming their future son-in-law into their family.

...

There was so much to do before the wedding, but they still kept seeing and kissing each other every day. The only exception was when Sir Jonathan went back to Locksley for a little more than a week to take care of estate business. He had lingered longer in London than he had intended already, and he would stay away from Locksley for more than a month again after this visit, the two weeks before the wedding and three weeks of honeymoon in Paris.

Elizabeth missed him so very much while he was away. She had got used to being kissed and fondled every day, and was really suffering from going without it. She was surprised about her own strong reaction, she felt so very incomplete without him.

When they were alone in his library again for the first time after his return, she kissed him with a hunger he hadn't seen in her before. He had missed her very much also, so he answered her in the same way, holding her hard and as close to his body as her crinoline would allow.

They were kissing each other, almost desperately, blending their tongues and mouths. After a while he squeezed his hands in between them, first one and then the other, and started fondling her breasts. She was clinging to him, her mouth against his mouth, her arms around his neck. She was breathing heavily, enjoying his hands on her breasts, and oh god was she enticing. He was fondling her through her clothing, but he felt he wanted more. He longed to feel her naked skin under his hands and her naked nipples against his palms.

Instinctively his hands started unbuttoning her dress.

...

When she felt his hands opening the first button on her dress, she knew she was done for. Her head was a little clearer now that he had stopped fondling her breasts, but she knew it wouldn't help. She wouldn't be able to deny him anything. As soon as he put his arms around her or his lips on hers, she was under his spell. It happened every time, and she was well aware of it by now.

Was it her lack of experience that made it so utterly impossible to say no to him? She had grown to a man's height at almost the same time as she had got a woman's body. No one had ever chased after her, she had never had the chance to get used to fend off boys' hands in a friendly way. The only male hands she had ever felt on her body was his.

She knew it would really be easy to stop him. All she had to do was to move his hands away with a laugh, and she knew he would never insist. But she just couldn't do it. There was something very irrational deep down in her that feared that he would leave her if she didn't let him have his way. And something in her that wanted him, wanted everything he was willing to give her, in a very physical way.

It was ridiculous really, she never had any problems being an independent woman, even in dealing with him. In all other aspects except this.

She felt his hand against her naked skin, just below her throat, just above her breasts, caressing her softly and very tenderly. They had stopped kissing each other now, he just looked into her eyes tentatively. She wondered if he could see the panic that was mingled with the desire she was feeling...

...

But he stopped himself.

He was almost sure he could have had her there, she probably wouldn't have objected. But he didn't want to take her. Because he could see her alone in her bed that night, back at Henrik's place, regretting it all. Feeling taken advantage of and fearing that he would look down on her. Scared that he wouldn't want her anymore, after he had had his way with her.

He wanted her first time to be good, _their_ first time. He wanted it as good as it could possibly be. He wanted it to be in a bed, not on a library floor or a sofa. He wanted it to be a _real_ wedding night, so he would be able to stay with her afterwards, to see that she was OK. He wanted to be able to sleep with her, quite literally.

"In two weeks we will be married", he whispered in her ear while he fastened her buttons again. "That will be awesome!"

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for all wonderful reviews!


	26. The Most Beautiful Gown

In the letter Henrik's sisters had brought to him when they came from India their father had also asked Henrik to organize his sisters' weddings, if it should come to that. And also see to it that they got a wedding gown and what else was needed. Their father would provide the money later on.

There had been nothing about Elizabeth in that paragraph either, but Henrik took it for granted that he should organize her wedding as well. Henrik would do his best to see to it that Elizabeth had the best possible wedding. He could pay for it himself if his father found it too expensive. She was so definitely his favourite sister, they had been close friends in their childhood, and now they had taken it up where they had left off nineteen years ago. He liked Celia and Christin also of course, but he had never had a chance to get to know them until now. They were so much younger than him, he had already been sent away to school before they were even born. They were not part of his childhood.

So he sent Elizabeth to the dress-maker who used to make the evening clothes for his wife Louisa.

"She is very good", he had told her. "Let her make you the most beautiful gown you can find!"

...

Elizabeth had leafed through the fashion-magazines at the dress-maker's place, and decided on a gown in one of them. There were six wedding dresses in the picture, she choose the simplest one. There were no frills or lace or ribbons on the top, just a long row of buttons on the front all the way from the high neckline down to the waist. The only other decorations were on the sleeves, each had three rows of lace in all. The skirt was also simple, only some rows of lace just above the hem.

She liked to keep her dress simple. She really didn't want to compete with the wedding cake when it came to decorations.

Crinolines was a fashion that had lasted for some years now, and they were getting bigger and bigger. "I will use the crinoline I already have, I don't need a new one", she had told the dress-maker. "I want a white petticoat over it, and then the gown. Just two layers. And a straight white petticoat to wear under the crinoline, around my legs."

She could see that the dress-maker didn't like this, but Elizabeth wanted to be economical. She knew her parents didn't have all that much money, and they had probably never calculated with any expenses at all for Elizabeth's wedding. And a wider crinoline meant more material for the skirt and more money to pay.

...

Today Elizabeth was there for the third fitting. The upper part of her gown, the blouse, was already finished. It fitted perfectly, and Elizabeth was very happy about it and told the dress-maker so. But the dress-maker was still going on about the width of the crinoline, she hadn't cut out the skirts yet.

"That crinoline of yours is last years style", the dress-maker said. "This year they are much wider. You really should consider having a wider one on your wedding day!"

Elizabeth laughed.

"I don't think it is even last years, it is four years old. It's made in India. But I think it is wide enough for me, I am so tall. If I had a wider crinoline I would fill up a whole room. And I wouldn't be able to come anywhere near my fiancé."

"That's one of the reasons to have it. To keep him at arm's length", the dress-maker said with a cunning smile.

"I don't need that", Elizabeth said with a sigh. "He is rather good at it himself."

...

And for the umpteenth time she wondered what had really happened the other day, when he had started undressing her, but then suddenly stopped. She was sure that she hadn't tried to stop him, he had stopped of his own accord. What was it that was wrong? And why had he avoided being alone with her since that?

She longed very much to kiss him again.

He had looked at her for almost a minute, holding his hand against her naked skin under her blouse through the opening he had created by unbuttoning a few of her buttons. He hadn't moved his hand much, only looked very carefully into her eyes.

Then he had bowed her head down with his other hand and kissed her forehead - of all places. "Don't be afraid of me, Elizabeth. Don't ever be afraid of me!" he had whispered. After that he took his hand out and started buttoning up her blouse again.

Well, at least he said it would be awesome to marry her, so he couldn't be too disappointed.

...

Elizabeth knew that she was a favourite among dress-makers, because she was so tall and needed a lot of material in her clothes. But now she insisted in using her old crinoline. She wanted to be able to move around without knocking people and things down. And she really longed for this fashion to end, although she wasn't entirely happy when it was gradually replaced by the bustle during the next couple of years. Why did women have to wear such ridiculous clothes? Hard to move in, hard to sit in, the women in the widest crinolines had even difficulties getting through doors.

She didn't want to waste a lot of money on her wedding. She would borrow the tiara to fasten her veil with from Louisa, the one Louisa had used when she married Henrik six years before.

Elizabeth wasn't going to wear any more jewelry than that, except the small golden heart that Jonathan had given her on her birthday. And her engagement ring, of course.

...

Jonathan had seen two things beside the obvious desire in Elizabeth's eyes when he held his hand inside her blouse - fear and submission. He hadn't liked to see any one of those. He had fallen in love with her because of her fearlessness, the daring way she had met his gaze across that dance-floor all those weeks ago. He had hoped she would always stay like that.

"What have I done to her? Have I broken her?" This remorseful thought had run through his head when he saw these things in her eyes.

He sincerely hoped that she wouldn't look like that on their wedding night, it would take away all the pleasure. Of course she would be nervous, he would be nervous himself, and perhaps he had to accept that she was a little scared. But he certainly didn't want her to be submissive.

He wanted her to enjoy it. The first time they made love, the second time and every time after that. He didn't want her to do it just to please him. He wanted to please her.

He knew that many men wanted a submissive wife, but he most definitely didn't. He didn't want a slave, he wanted a companion, a friend as well as someone to love. Perhaps that was the reason it had taken him so long to find a wife. He knew that girls were told that they were more attractive when they were meek and humble, but he had never found that attractive at all.

Sir Jonathan couldn't really understand this preference for subordination. He didn't even see it as the men taking advantage of the women. What advantage was there in having a wife who only ever said what you wanted to hear? How tiresome that would be in the long run.

It was much better to have a wife with a brain and a will of her own, someone to discuss serious things with. A real partner, to help with any hard decisions in life. Someone who didn't only take interest but also understood things. He knew by now that Elizabeth had a better head than him in many ways. And that she wanted to take part. To do something important, as she had called it.

...

"Why did you stop?" Elizabeth asked. They were sitting together on a bench in the park. She looked into his blue eyes, waiting for his answer.

"Stop what?" he asked to win some time. But of course he knew what she was talking about, he had thought so much about it himself. But he hadn't expected her to ask him. He was glad she did though, because it showed that she still dared to talk to him about difficult things. She didn't shy away.

"The day before yesterday you started to undress me. But then you stopped. Why? Did I do anything to offend you?"

He took a quick look around to make sure that no one was listening to this rather indecent conversation. Luckily there wasn't anyone near them. He kept quiet for a moment more, thinking over how to tell her this.

"Since then you have avoided being alone with me. I haven't got a single kiss", she complained with a sullen look.

So he decided to get it out. To be honest with her.

"I stopped because I think it is better that we let things like that wait till after we are married. We will soon be. And I think you liked what I did, but you didn't really want to go any further. You were just giving in to me. I could see you were scared."

She looked down on the ground in front of her, kicking with her shoes in the sand in a very unladylike manner. That was a pretty accurate description of what her feelings had been. He seemed to have been able to read her mind.

"Actually, I hope _I_ didn't offend _you", _he added. "I had made up my mind not to undress you before we were married, but I got carried away. That's why I have avoided being alone with you since then. But we can go to my place and kiss each other now, if you want to. And I will try to behave."

She looked up at him again. He was smiling and she could see the love in his smile.

"So you weren't disappointed in me?" she asked then. "You still want to kiss me?"

"Of course I do! I love you so much. And I'm really looking forward to undressing you on our wedding night."

She smiled mischievously at him.

"I am so glad to hear that", she said. "Because I just tried on a wedding gown with twenty-seven buttons on the blouse. I hope you will enjoy that!"

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for reviewing!

Elizabeth's wedding gown is inspired by a print from 1861 with six wedding gowns. All of them have long skirts with crinolines, long sleeves and the neckline at the neck, sometimes with a small collar. The brides didn't show much skin at the time!


	27. The Act of Physical Love

"Will you please tell me what it is like!" Lady Elizabeth said to her brother Henrik two days before her wedding. They were alone in his library, she had closed the door behind her with a strange smile that he had difficulties interpreting. A mixture of determination, embarrassment and pleading, he had thought.

"What _what_ is like?" Her brother felt a little embarrassed himself, but he hoped his sister wasn't asking about the thing he thought she was asking about.

But she was.

"The act of physical love. You know. Making love. What I am supposed to do."

Henrik didn't know what to say, he felt so embarrassed. How could he possibly discuss things like that with his elder sister?

"Well I have to ask someone", Elizabeth continued when she saw his reaction. "And Mama isn't here."

"But why don't you ask Louisa. She is married and a woman, I'm sure she would tell you about it if you ask her to."

"No, I can't ask Louisa."

"Why not? I thought you were good friends."

"We are. If I ever will be expecting a baby I will ask her about giving birth. But I can't ask her about this. She is your wife and I might learn things about you that I would rather not know."

Henrik smiled at that. "Perhaps you would. But I think I am a good husband, and I hope Louisa thinks so too. I'm trying very hard to be one. And she is a very good wife, we have both made the right choise, I think."

"Yes, I agree. I think the two of you look very happy together. That is one of the reasons that I ask you. So, will you tell me? Please!"

"What is it you want to know then? I honestly don't know if I can speak about things like this to my sister without blushing, but I'll try."

"Well, I know the basic facts. I've studied biology, as you know. I know roughly what a man looks like beneath his pants. I have seen little boys naked often enough, even if I have never seen a grown up man naked in real life, only in paintings and prints and suchlike. But I know what parts of a man's and a woman's anatomy are supposed to be put together when you make love."

"Alright, you seem to know the essentials, what is it you wonder about then?"

"I want to know how to be a good wife. In bed."

It wasn't really the question he had expected. And perhaps it was the most difficult one to answer.

He felt a wave of tenderness and admiration towards his elder sister, who had the courage to get married at such an advanced age. An age when most women were already well settled in their lives since long, as wives or as spinsters.

But he knew he should just be happy for her. No one had really ever expected her to get married at all, not even her closest family. Because she was so tall and not what was usually considered a beauty. And quite a little bit awkward in her behaviour also.

And Sir Jonathan Strallan was a good man if ever there was one.

"So what is it you worry about?"

"Well, I asked an English woman I know from India, a married woman, and she said I should just close my eyes and spread my legs. That got me worried. Is that really what I am supposed to do? Because I don't like the idea of that at all. I don't want to close my eyes when I can look at Jonathan. He is so handsome, and I love him so much. And I want to _enjoy_ being with him that way, not put myself outside of it."

"I don't think there is really anything at all that I can teach you. I think you already understand all the important things. Much better than that woman does. I am sure that Sir Jonathan will be very happy with you."

"Really? I love him so much, you see. It is such a blessing that he wants me, it makes me so happy! I will never understand why he does. I so want this to be good for him, I don't want him ever to regret marrying me."

"Well I think the best you can do then, is to try your best to relax and enjoy being with him, and show him you enjoy it. He will be as nervous as you the first time, I think, maybe worse. And I'm sure he would want to please you. Judging from the way he looks at you..."

"Good! I think it will be easy to enjoy those things. Just the thought of getting so close to him...And taking off our clothes...And when we kiss..." her voice trailed off, she didn't wish to embarrass her brother too much.

"And I think you understand that making love is a thing done by _two _people. For the woman to just lay back and pretend she is somewhere else seems like a terrible idea to me."

"Good! So he wont think I'm not chaste if I am a little active? If I fondle him? Touch him? Or if I enjoy what he is doing too much?"

"Of course not! You will be married by then. I don't think it is at all possible for a wife to enjoy _too much_ what her husband is doing in bed. And a married woman is always chaste when she is together with her husband."

"Good! That sounds like a very good principle. I'll try to keep that in mind!"

"So don't worry! You love each other, you will learn from each other. It doesn't have to be perfect at once."

"Thank you Henrik, you have been a great help."

"I think I only confirmed things you already know."

"But I needed that. You _have_ been a great help."

She thought about it for a short while, before she added: "And let's not talk about things like this _ever_ again!"

"I think I can easily promise that!" Henrik gave her an embarrassed smile before he looked down at his papers again, while Elizabeth slipped out through the door.

But that short talk with her brother made Lady Elizabeth long even more for her wedding-night.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you very much for reviewing!

I so enjoy writing this story. Makes me happy!


	28. Interlude: Lady Violet, 1920, later

Lady Violet was in church, watching her son and granddaughter moving up the aisle towards the altar were Sir Anthony Strallan was waiting.

Lady Violet still couldn't get the thoughts of Sarah Hatfield's ball out of her head. She could still remember how she had felt on the morning before that ball. How full of excitement and butterflies that young girl had been, the young girl that Violet was at the time. She had felt that life was beginning for her, at last! Her childhood had at long last been over. She had finally, finally been eighteen years old and was going to her very first débutante ball.

How young she had been! How young they had all been!

Lady Violet had been well prepared for the season of 1863. She had a different gown made for each ball she was invited to, with glows and jewelry to go with it. All with crinolines, of course, they were still in fashion that year, although that fashion declined in the years after.

The nicest thing with those grown up balls was that there were _men_ there. Real men, not merely boys. Lady Violet had meet Patrick Crawley there. He was almost ten years older than her, friendly but not very handsome. But with a big estate in the country into the bargain, Patrick Crawley looked quite a bit more attractive to Violet.

She thought Patrick Crawley would be a good husband for her, but she had no hurry. Better wait until he had inherited the title, she had thought. She had no intention to marry that year anyhow. She wanted to have some fun before she settled down, she wanted to have at least three seasons to dance and play around. It was considered a great achievement to land a husband during one's first season, but she was certainly not ready to be tied down so early. So their marriage hadn't taken place until several years later, in 1869, although they had liked each other from the start. No understanding was formed between them during that year, although they danced together on many balls.

A couple of years later, during the late sixties, she had been in love with Lord Hepworth for some time, blended by his handsome looks. But she had found Patrick Crawley a better choise, just as rich and more likely to be faithful, although not half as handsome. That decision had proved right, she thought now, since the Hepworth fortune was all gone by now.

She also thought about Strallan's mother, Lady Elizabeth. Lady Violet had seen her for the first time on that ball. Violet hadn't known then that they would become neighbours in Yorkshire later on.

Never had Violet met such an unladylike woman. It wasn't only that she was much too tall for a woman. She was an awful person, very bossy and always considering herself so much better than everyone else. Always looking down her nose - in more than one meaning of that expression - on everybody else. She thought she knew everything about everything, always lecturing people about one thing or another. She was so very self-righteous. Lady Violet had mostly tried to keep their contact down to a minimum.

...

And now she saw that horrible woman's even more horrible son embarrassing her dear Edith by interrupting the wedding ceremony! It seemed that he was talking a lot of rubbish to her, though Violet couldn't hear much of it since he was more or less whispering. Was he thinking of leaving Edith there, at the altar?

Lady Violet had a good mind to step forward and tell Edith to wish him well and let him go. And tell that abominable Strallan that this was the best idea he had come up with for months.

But she stayed where she was, while Reverend Travis ushered Edith and Strallan off to the vestry. Because she knew how much this meant to Edith, how much she feared being a maiden aunt. Being married to Anthony Strallan would be very much worse than being a maiden aunt, in Violet's opinion. But to Edith it wasn't, and her grandmother knew that.

After all, Edith had never been much of a success at balls, and by now there weren't even many young men left to dance with. And Edith wasn't getting any younger.

Anthony Strallan wasn't much of a man, and never had been, Violet thought. It was really unexpected that he had even had the guts to interrupt the wedding.

Or propose to Edith. True, he had proposed to Maud also, but Maud had been a widow and about ten years older than Strallan, so she had probably done most of the proposing herself.

...

Reverend Travis came back almost immediately.

"I have given the bride and groom fifteen minutes to consider", he said. "Maybe we can sing a couple of hymns while we wait?"

But no one listened to him, everybody kept talking about what had happened. What a great scandal it was, how shocking Sir Anthony's behaviour had been. How scared and sad poor Lady Edith had looked. What was it that had made Sir Anthony change his mind like that? Was it just bad nerves? What was going to happen now?

"I hope they will be able to sort it out", Cora said. "I think it will be dreadful for Edith otherwise. She was so happy this morning."

Lady Violet didn't agree. The sooner Edith got rid of that crippled old Strallan the better. But she kept her opinion to herself, for once in her life.

...

Ten minutes later Lady Violet saw Edith and Strallan coming out from the archway to the vestry. They were holding hands, and what was worse, they were both smiling. This didn't bode well for her dear Edith.

Violet saw a distinct element of triumph in Edith's face, something she hadn't seen often. Last time she could remember was when Edith had demonstrated to her grandmother that she had actually learned how to drive the car. Violet hadn't thought much of Edith's driving abilities, and even hesitated to get into the car and let Edith drive her. But Edith had been extremely proud of her accomplishment, and impossible to say no to.

Exactly what Edith had done to Strallan in the vestry, Violet didn't know. But it was probably something quite indecent, and very improper to do in church. Because Strallan had a distinctly new look in his face, although he still looked tired. It was a more manly and self-assured look, there was even something resembling satisfaction in it.

Strallan looked around the congregation with much more confidence than could have been expected, given the circumstances. "Sorry everybody", he said with a tired smile. Then he turned to the altar and made an excuse to Travis, telling him to start again. After that Violet saw him quickly turn back to Edith again, giving her an encouraging smile.

...

The rest of the ceremony went the way such ceremonies normally does. Nothing very interesting happened and nothing very scandalous. Lady Violet had been to more than fifty weddings in her life, so she more or less dozed off. When she woke up again she could hear Strallan and Edith be pronounced husband and wife.

So now Violet had to welcome that dreadful man into the family! And smile sweetly at him during the wedding reception. It wouldn't be easy, but she had to make an effort.

...

That Sir Anthony almost jilted her at the altar was what people would remember from Edith's wedding.

Everyone tried to be smiling at the reception, but the smiles were uneasy. There was a subdued mood over the whole party. The only person to look genuinely happy was Edith herself. Her tears had dried by now, and she was looking at her new husband with a mixture of pride and tenderness. Sir Anthony looked tired more than anything else, it was obvious that he was making an effort to be friendly.

"So, what happened to your cold feet then?" Lady Violet asked Sir Anthony as she was standing beside him and Edith when they were all ready to enter the dining room for the wedding feast. "Why make such a fuss about stopping the wedding, if you weren't prepared to go through with that? Can't you see that you were only wasting people's time."

"Well, my darling wife here talked me out of it", he said with his usual friendly smile, touching Edith's shoulder with the only hand he could use.

Violet had meant that as a reproach, after all he had acted in an abominable way, but he took it as if she had just made a friendly enquiry. It was so infuriating, could this man never get angry? He was just like his mother! How could her dear Edith want a sop like him?

"I wonder why she bothered to do that", Violet said pointedly.

Edith looked terrified at that, looking up pleadingly at her new husband, so Violet thought she had to soften it a little. Because Violet loved Edith, and didn't want to lose her.

"Well, not much to do about it now, I guess. So you are welcome into the family, Anthony!" she said, trying very hard to smile friendly at her favourite granddaughter's new husband.

Then Violet turned away to go and talk to someone else. The last thing she heard was the beginning of a whispered excuse from Edith to Strallan: "Granny doesn't mean..."

Which was quite infuriating also, in a way. Lady Violet had never said anything she didn't mean.

...

Later, when the newlyweds left in their car for their wedding night at Locksley, and everyone at Downton were outside to see them off, Lady Violet had one last thought she wanted to share with Edith's mother.

"How will he ever be able to do those things with only one arm?" she said to Cora with a disapproving air. "The poor girl wont have much of a wedding night, I'm afraid! And I doubt it she will ever have any children."

"Oh please, don't be silly", Cora said. "Don't you know there is more than one way to do that? I'm sure they will be fine. And Edith will probably be in the family way within the year. Where there's a will there's a way!"

Violet looked scandalized, but it didn't keep Cora silent.

"And they certainly look like they have a lot of will!" she added. "Can't you see how adoringly they look at each other?"

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you ever so much for reviewing!

The reviews are really what keeps me posting.

A special thanks to Thymelady, part of whose review to chapter 18 of this story I have stolen and changed a little as Cora's remark here. Tack så mycket! Hoppas det var OK!

I didn't like the Lady Violet of season 3 much, as you can perhaps see here. Her telling Edith she wasn't meant for married life, after Violet herself had chased away the only man who has ever giving Edith a chance of that, was a little too much for me somehow.

But I'm sure Violet loves Edith, and Edith loves her granny, even if she is able to see her faults, at least sometimes. And my Violet is actually a little more considerate to Edith during the wedding than JF's.


	29. A Victorian Wedding

The wedding between Sir Jonathan Strallan and Lady Elizabeth Kempell took place in London in the beginning of August 1863.

Elizabeth's parents hadn't been able to come all the way from India on such short notice to attend their eldest daughter's very unexpected wedding. So Elizabeth's brother Henrik had the honour of leading his sister up the aisle, just as he had wished to do.

Her parents had sent a telegram to congratulate the couple. They had also given Elizabeth a dowry that would give her a very small yearly income of her own. And, of course, they had told Elizabeth and Henrik that they were going to pay for all the wedding expenses.

...

Lady Elizabeth and Sir Jonathan had discussed the question of a trousseau some weeks earlier. He had said that there was no need for her to bring any linen or bedding or such things, there was plenty of these already both in London and in Locksley. And if she thought anything was missing, they could buy it later on, no need to let her parents pay for that.

"You can get some new clothes for our wedding trip, if you think you need any, that's all. Once we are married you will have all you need."

"You have so much and I have nothing", she sighed. "You must think I take you for your money."

"I honestly don't care why you take me. As long as you do", he had said, looking very earnestly into her eyes.

"But really, what have I got to offer you? Nothing!"

"Of course you have! Your love! Your own sweet self! There is nothing I want more than that."

"But I want _you_, and I get you. And _your_ love. You get me, I get you, that sort of evens out. But I also get to share your London house and your estate and your money, and you get nothing at all from me."

"Don't even think such things! You are the love of my life. You give me so much by just existing. By wanting me. If you only knew how much better my life is since I met you. Don't worry so much!"

He had been quiet for a moment before he continued.

"Besides, you do have something that I get to share, something worth a great deal. Your family. I don't have a single living relative. And all your relatives are very nice and friendly. I look forward very much to be related to them."

...

Weddings in those days took place in the mornings. It was not until 1886 that the law changed to allow weddings in the afternoons. Sir Jonathan's and Lady Elizabeth's wedding was scheduled to 11.30, wich was about as late as was legally permitted at the time.

After the wedding there would be a wedding breakfast in Henrik's and Louisa's home. They had discussed whether or not to have a dance after that, but Elizabeth had been against it. She didn't like to give her parents the extra cost of an orchestra. Jonathan had pretended to agree, but secretly he had arranged with Henrik to have dancing after the meal to an orchestra that Sir Jonathan himself had paid for. He enjoyed dancing very much and just couldn't give up the chance to dance with his new bride.

In the evening they planned to go to their London house for their wedding-night. Paris, where they were going for their honeymoon, was far away and it would take quite some time to get there. So they had decided that it was better to start their wedding trip the following day, and begin their married life with an undisturbed night in their home.

...

The wedding was a fairly small one. The guests were limited to Elizabeth's family, a few friends on each side and some neighbours from Yorkshire and London. Celia and Christin were bridesmaids. They were both beautiful in their new dresses, but for once none of them outshone their dear elder sister.

When Henrik first saw Elizabeth dressed in that gown with the veil and the tiara he had wondered why people ever could consider her plain. She just looked stunning, he understood why Sir Jonathan had fallen so madly in love with her. He himself felt very proud to lead his beautiful sister up the aisle.

Sir Jonathan had been waiting at the altar. He didn't know how he had expected her to look, but this surpassed all his expectations. She simply took his breath away. Had there ever been a more beautiful bride? She looked absolutely ravishing.

"Hello, my darling", she said when she came up to him.

"Hello, my sweetheart", he answered. "You are so very beautiful!"

...

The wedding-breakfast was a very big meal, as was the custom. It was more like a dinner than a breakfast. There were almost twenty different dishes, although Elizabeth had tried to keep the number of courses down.

Everybody seemed happy though, and the congratulations and toasts were many.

Sir Jonathan kept looking at his bride with a mixture of tenderness, pride and incredulity. How on earth had he ever managed to get this woman as his bride? But he had, he really had! And tonight...

...

Elizabeth wasn't at all pleased when the music started to play after the wedding breakfast was over. Hadn't she said that she didn't want any orchestra?

"Don't worry, your parents won't have to pay for it! I have paid the orchestra already", Jonathan whispered to her.

She wasn't really happy about that either, she found it a little too extravagant. But she knew what a wonderful dancer he was, so she didn't say anything more about it.

Sir Jonathan took Lady Elisabeth's hand and led her into the adjoining room, that had been cleared out for dancing.

"Well, you see, I just have to dance with you on our wedding day. I haven't danced with you since that wonderful evening when I first met you. So please, my darling wife, will you dance with me?"

"Yes, of course. You know that I just promised to obey you", she said with a wry smile. "So I might as well start to get used to it."

...

They had discussed the part of the wedding vows where the bride promises to obey her groom. It didn't sit well with Lady Elizabeth's independent soul to promise such a thing.

"How can I promise a thing like that?" she had asked Jonathan. "I have my own free will. Why should I give up that to get married?"

"Well, maybe you should just promise to obey me sometimes. It doesn't say anywhere in the text that it has to be always."

"But the other things I will promise I _want_ to do always. To love you and to cherish you. I hope I will always be able to do those things. But I can't promise to obey you always."

"Well, we are not allowed to change the ceremony, but I will try not to listen when you say those words", he said with a smile. "Anyway, I will never hold it against you. I want you as my wife, not as my slave."

"But it is strange. Why should I say words I don't intend to keep?"

"Well, I guess you have to try to obey me from time to time, then?" he ventured. "Maybe I will sometimes manage to tell you to do things that you will _like _to obey? Who knows?"

"Like what?" she said, looking very sceptical.

"Come here and kiss me now! At once! Stop talking so much!" he said, in a slightly irritated tone but with a new smile.

She didn't know if it was an example, or if he really had a very bad need for her to kiss him. But she had no problems whatsoever to obey him.

And that was the end of that discussion.

...

So on their wedding day they danced together. They were just as enchanted by each other as they had been on that very first evening, forgetting everything around them.

And she was glad he had hired this orchestra, even if it had been against her will. There would be other things to remember from this wedding and the night that was to follow - of course there would. But dancing with her handsome new husband on the day of their wedding was one of the things that would make this day perfect.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for all the kind reviews! I really appreciate them!

They usually didn't dance at weddings in these days. But Sir Jonathan loves to dance, so I let him have his way. I can't deny that man anything.

I just found out that there was no telegraph line between Britain and India until 1870, although telegraphs had existed for quite some time in 1863. But let's just pretend that the line was opened in 1862 instead! I am sure it is not the most unreal part of this story anyway.

This seems like a suitable chapter to publish on the International Women's Day. I don't think English women have to promise to obey their husbands any longer.


	30. Explaining the Facts of Life

After the wedding breakfast and the dancing Sir Jonathan took his new wife back to their London house for their wedding night. Lady Elizabeth, who was a practical person, had already taken off her veil and returned the borrowed tiara to Louisa.

They started their evening with tea and kisses in the library. They were a tiny bit giddy and light-headed, partly from the wine, partly from the dancing and partly from the thoughts of what was to happen during this night. They were laughing and kissing and talking and drinking tea and eating muffins, and then they were laughing and kissing again.

They knew that getting married was a serious thing. But somehow their happiness and their nervousness got the better of them, so they just couldn't stop laughing. Kissing and laughing at the same time is rather difficult, which made the whole thing even funnier somehow.

Then, suddenly, she stopped laughing. She looked at him with more seriousness than he had ever seen in her eyes before.

"Thank you, Jonathan", she said. "Thank you so much! Thank you for today! Thank you for these past months! Thank you for loving me! Thank you for everything!"

His own laughter had also died down when he saw her seriousness.

"I think it is I that ought to thank you", he said softly. "Thank you for being the woman you are! Thank you for loving me and marrying me!"

Then he kissed her again, a long, soft kiss that wasn't interrupted by any laughter. When they finally stopped kissing they looked at each other again, and saw the love and the earnestness in each other's eyes.

"Perhaps it is time for us to go upstairs", he said softly.

...

They were holding hands as they ascended the stairs, stopping almost every third step to kiss each other again. This was, of course, because they enjoyed kissing each other so much, but also to slow things down. To have a little extra time together before they had to face things they certainly longed for very much but also feared.

The seriousness of it all had finally got to them, and they both had a fair amount of butterflies in their bellies. What if this wouldn't work out for them? He worried that she wouldn't enjoy the marital act. She worried that he wouldn't like the way she looked with her clothes taken off.

...

After a first kiss Jonathan sat down on the bed, asking Elizabeth to sit down beside him. He took her hands in his and looked into her eyes. There was something he had to talk to her about. But it was difficult to talk when he looked into those wonderful blue eyes, because he only wanted to kiss her. But he told himself to behave, and then he started.

"Do you know what it is we are supposed to do tonight?" he asked her very softly, knowing that her mother hadn't been there to inform her. He didn't want to shock her by just going ahead with it. He was really embarrassed to talk about this, but he just simply had to. If she didn't have a clue about what parts of their bodies would be involved in the act, he was afraid it might both frighten and disgust her. And he wanted this first time to be good for her, as good as he could possibly make it.

"Of course I know, I have studied biology", she answered a little impatiently. "You are supposed to put your penis into my vagina. That opening between my legs."

That sounded accurate enough, although a little clinical. But he still found those words strangely arousing, uttered so matter-of-factly by his beautiful new wife that he was so very much in love with.

"And you do know what a penis is?" he asked then, feeling very awkward about having this conversation.

"Yes, of course, I have brothers. They are grownup by now, but I have known them since they were babies. I expect you have something like that, only bigger, because you are a grownup and I am sure that part grows up also."

He wondered if this was the most absurd conversation any new husband had ever had with his new wife on their wedding-night. Maybe he should whisper sweet nothings instead. But there was one more thing he felt that he had to tell her.

"Yes, you are right there. But there is something else. The penis, well, it grows and ... straightens out, so to speak, and gets harder when it is ready to enter into you. I don't want you to be frightened by that."

"I wont be, I promise, I wont. Don't worry!" she said. "I'm curious more than anything else, really. I love you, you see. And I am not afraid of you or any part of you. Because you are the kindest and sweetest man in the whole wide world."

And then she added: "Oh my darling Jonathan, let us just begin, I have longed for this for such a long time!"

"Alright", he said with a smile. "But we don't start with that thing you mentioned before of course, that will come later on. First I want to give you plenty of kisses. And then maybe, if you like, we can take off some of each other's clothes."

...

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, then she decided that she had no need to be shy. There was no one else there except her husband and a married woman was always chaste when she was with her husband. And very soon Jonathan would see her without any clothes at all.

"Would you mind terribly if I take off my crinoline at once? It is so uncomfortable to sit in", she said, looking pleadingly at Jonathan.

He smiled encouragingly at her, as usual she had her own ideas about things.

"I have a skirt underneath, well, a petticoat really, so I will look quite decent. And you will have something to take off later on", she added with a mischievous smile.

Well, he didn't mind it at all, and he told her so. This recent fashion with steel bands holding out ever-wider skirts was not really to his taste. It must be very difficult to wear, he thought, the widest skirts made it hard for their wearers to get into a carriage or through a door. If a woman wearing a crinoline fell on the ground, the crinoline would hold up her skirt, exposing her in a quite indecent way.

"I think I will take off my jacket and collar as well", he said. "They are also very uncomfortable, especially the collar."

They booth got up from their bed and she moved a little bit away from him, she obviously needed the space. She unbuttoned something at her waist and threw her skirts up over her head to take them off. He smiled at her while he took off his jacket. She was marvellous! So adorable!

Now she was standing there with the lower part of her body in a steel-cage. She unfastened some laces around her waist and got out of the crinoline. He saw for the first time what she really looked like. How very tall and slim her whole body was.

"Oh, how nice it was to get rid of that", she sighed contentedly. "I hope this fashion will change soon! It's so uncomfortable."

She went over to him again where he was standing irresolutely in his shirt-sleeves. He took her into his arms, and for the first time ever he could press his whole body against hers. It felt wonderful.

...

After a while he bowed down and lifted her up from the floor, one arm behind her back, the other under her knees. She was so light. He stood there for a while, holding her. She put her arms around his neck and laughed contentedly, she hadn't expected to be lifted off her feet like that.

Then he carried her to the bed and put her down gently, before he lay down at her side and started kissing her again.

"I love you, Elizabeth. I am so happy to have you", he said between the kisses. She was going to answer that, but he was already kissing her again.

They had kissed each other many times by now, standing up or sitting on a sofa. But kissing each other lying down was a new sensation. When they started out, they were both lying on their sides, but soon he rolled to be on top of her. He was leaning at his elbows with her head in his palms, fondling her hair and cheeks, giving her one soft kiss after the other. She held her arms around his back, fondling his hair, pressing him down on her, returning his kisses.

He stopped kissing her and looked down on her face. Her eyes were hazy and her cheeks red. She smiled happily at him.

"I love you, Jonathan!" she sighed. "I love you so much!"

He rolled them once more so she was on top of him instead, and started caressing her back. They kissed each other again, a series of long deep kisses. After a while she lifted herself on her elbows and looked down into his eyes. Then, after hesitating for a few moments, she started to unbutton his shirt.

"Maybe it is time that you start on those twenty-seven buttons on my blouse", she teased. "We haven't got all night."

"Shall I let you into a secret, my little darling?" he answered. "We _have_ got all night!"

...

Later, when they had just booked into their hotel in Paris, she told him how much she had hated that little biology talk on their wedding-night. She had felt like a schoolgirl, being questioned about her homework.

"I can't think about a more unromantic way to start a wedding-night", she told him. "I just wanted to get through with it so I could kiss you."

"But I didn't know you knew so much, you see. I was afraid of shocking you. I knew your mother had no chance to tell you about it", he pleaded. "But I should have known, perhaps, because you know so much about so many things."

"I only knew it theoretically, some of it surprised me. Like all the movement. I thought you only put it in and then you left it there until it was finished."

"You have a way of saying things...", he said with an amused smile. "Didn't you like the movement?"

"At first I didn't, because when you started moving out of me I thought it was all over. I thought that it had been much too fast, I wanted more. But then you turned halfway and came back in again. After that I liked the movement very much. You must have noticed! And I really enjoy that feeling...that warm wave through my whole body, starting between my legs. That was... it is... well...what shall I call it... awesome?"

He smiled at her, feeling both happy and proud. She was so sweet and he loved her so very much.

"I hope you got all you wanted of kisses and love-making during our wedding-night", he said softly. "I hope I lived up to your expectations."

She smiled happily at that. "Yes, of course you did. I had a wonderful wedding-night. And I have a wonderful husband. The best one possible. I love you so very much."

He smiled mischievously at her. "What do you say, maybe we ought to test if these beds are any good before we go out to look at Paris?"

...

About a month later Sir Jonathan once used that phrase at Locksley when he wanted his wife to come with him from the library to the bedroom.

"Would you like me to put my penis into your vagina?" he asked with a soft smile and reached out his hand to her.

At least that made her laugh. She laughed for almost a minute, and he laughed with her.

"Yes, my darling. I love you too", she answered then. And after that she put her hand in his and followed him upstairs, kissing him several times on the way up.

...

AN: Sorry about the biology-lesson, I had such fun writing it. But, as we all know, 'vulgarity is no substitute for wit'.

I have hesitated for a while to publish this chapter, although it was finished long ago. (The same goes for the next one - we'll see about that one!)

But I think this chapter is so much Jonathan and Elizabeth, all of it is, so I don't want to leave it out. The thoughtfulness, the tenderness and the mutual love, as well as the straightforward way of speaking to each other. So here goes!

Thank you for reading! Thank you so much for reviewing!


	31. To Make a Baby

AN: Just some wedding-night fluff.

...

It would have been nice to have some romantic music playing while they made love to each other on their wedding-night, Sir Jonathan thought when he planned his wedding to Elizabeth. But if he had paid the orchestra to play love songs throughout the night, either outside their window or in the upstairs hallway, he was sure Elizabeth would have been both irritated about the cost and embarrassed to have the musicians know what was going on in their bedroom.

So the night was still and silent when they started undressing each other for the first time, lying there together on top of their bed. The only sound that could be heard was the crackling of the fire in the fireplace and the soft wheeze of their own breathing getting heavier.

They were looking into each other's eyes, touching each other. They were saying very little, feeling very much, marvelling over all the small wonders of life and all the secret parts of each other's bodies that they were soon going to get familiar with.

...

She had opened some of the buttons of his shirt, and now she held her hand, palm down, against his naked chest, stroking it softly with slow movements. It was almost the same way as he had held _his _hand inside her blouse two weeks earlier, before he changed his mind about undressing her and buttoned up her blouse again.

"I'm glad you stopped that time", she whispered. "You were right then, I didn't really want to go any further. I just couldn't resist you."

This time they both knew that they wouldn't stop. This was going to be the real thing, the consummation of their love. It made them feel both nervous and full of awe, right through their happiness and determination.

"I am glad I did that too. This is the right time for those things, I think. But I do feel quite a little bit nervous right now."

"Are you nervous? Really? I am nervous too. I'm so afraid of disappointing you. But then again, why should I be? You are so kind and sweet! And you have nothing to fear from me either, I promise! I'm sure this will be a _good_ experience. For both of us."

"Well, let's hope so! Let's try to make it so!"

...

He started on the long row of buttons on her blouse, like she had told him to do. It was slow, the buttons were small, too small for his hands really. He fumbled a bit, but slowly and steadily he opened one button after the other. When he was almost halfway, he gently rolled her over on her back again, while he lay down beside her, supported on one of his elbows. He folded the unbuttoned parts of her blouse away and placed several kisses on the exposed skin.

She moaned softly. But now she was really longing to feel his naked skin, so she continued unbuttoning the last few buttons of his shirt.

"Can we take this off you now?" she asked softly, both her hands against his chest. So he sat up, unbuttoned the cuffs and took his shirt off.

She looked at him with admiration. Then she sat up in bed beside him and put her arms around him. She yearned to get her own clothes off now, to feel his naked chest against her own. But she still had both the blouse, the corset and the chemise on. She looked imploringly into his eyes.

"Please take my blouse off now", she pleaded.

He started unbuttoning the rest of her blouse with fumbling fingers. His eagerness made him close to rip off one of the buttons, so he told himself to slow down. He knew Elizabeth wouldn't be happy if he destroyed her clothes. Those twenty-seven small buttons were really a little too much for him. But he endeavoured to be patient and kept going at a slow, steady pace. At long last he managed to unbutton the last button without tearing anything apart. Then he helped her to take the blouse off. After that he drew her close to him again and started kissing her.

When the kiss deepened he put one of his hands tentatively against the naked skin on her chest over her corset. He caressed her for a while before he let his hand slide under the fabric, fondling the naked roundness of one of her breasts.

"You are so wonderfully soft", he murmured.

He then pulled at the strings on the back of her corset. He managed to untie the bow, but it didn't open the corset.

"How do I get this thing off?" he mumbled impatiently. "Please help me!"

This was very definitely one of these cases when she wanted very much to obey him, Elizabeth thought with a wry smile.

So she quickly moved her hands to the busk on the corset's front and opened it swiftly. The corset fell off, she threw it on the floor, and her upper body was now dressed in nothing but the thin cotton chemise. He looked into her eyes, kissed her softly and then lifted the chemise over her head. He looked at her naked upper body with love, admiration and desire.

"You are beautiful", he said huskily. "So very, very beautiful."

He took her in his arms again, holding her tight against his chest. She gasped at the sensation, there was suddenly so very much of his naked skin against her own. He kissed her again, slowly, teasingly and with a tenderness for her that was even stronger than his desire.

Then he laid her down on her back again, while he himself lay down beside her, fondling her breasts, looking lovingly into her eyes. After a while he moved on top of her, tucking his hands in beneath her back. She held him tight with her arms around his back, feeling all his naked skin against her again, while they kissed each other with more and more ardour.

...

After a while they were both feeling that they still had too much clothes on. So they started to unbutton and remove the rest. It wasn't a slow, teasing undressing any longer. It had suddenly become very urgent.

...

She let out two low moans when he at last pressed into her. He didn't know for sure if it was from pain or from pleasure.

"Are you alright, Elizabeth?" he asked softly, looking down into her eyes. She only smiled at him. Her eyes were foggy, she seemed to be beyond words, but she nodded and she did look distinctly happy.

He kept still for some moments, giving her time to get used to the newness of it all, kissing her again. It was a deep, slow kiss. He could feel her returning the kiss, eagerly and out of breath.

Then he started moving, letting himself loose to the sensation of her.

...

"Do you think I'm expecting a baby now?" she asked him when their breathing was back to normal again. They were cuddling together under the bedding, enjoying the warmth of each other's naked bodies, after making love to each other for the very first time.

"I most certainly hope so", he answered. "Otherwise we will have to do that again."

She got very quiet, looking inquiringly at him, wondering if he could really mean what he was saying. But she could see the teasing smile in his face.

"Yes, that would be awful", she agreed, smiling herself.

"It, would, wouldn't it", he said, still smiling.

But then he thought the joke had gone far enough. Hearing her say it would be awful made him suddenly feel very insecure for some reason, however much he could see that she was only joking.

"No it wouldn't!" he corrected himself then. "It was wonderful! It would be wonderful to do it again! At least I think so."

After that he raised himself on his elbows, one arm on each side of her, smiling down at her. She had a very satisfied smile in her face.

"Yes, of course, it was wonderful! It will be lovely to do it again. Oh, Jonathan, I love you so very much!"

...

They felt relaxed and happy, lying there close together in bed. They were talking and laughing, going through what had happened through this very important day in their life.

After a while he started kissing her again, with soft, gentle, slow kisses.

They were both naked now, and there were no barriers between them. They could touch every part of each other's bodies, though they started out slowly, with soft kisses and gentle caresses. But their nakedness made it all happen so much faster than the first time. There were no longer any buttons or strings, and no layers of fabric, to keep them from touching each other.

So within the half-hour Sir Jonathan and Lady Elizabeth Strallan were making love to each other for the second time that night.

...

Later she was sleeping in his arms on the bed. He was holding her close to him, her back to his chest. His nose was in the nape of her neck - nuzzling it softly. She was sleeping peacefully, he could feel her steady breathing against his own body.

She trusts me, he thought with a feeling of wonderment and elation. She trusts me enough to fall asleep in my arms. She also trusts me enough to marry me and put her whole life in my hands.

Women didn't have many rights in marriage and he knew that. The husband had all the legal rights and the wife almost none. She was not only supposed to promise to obey her husband, she was more or less considered to be her husband's property. It was really not fair at all.

He wondered if he would ever have trusted another person with his life like that. Especially someone who was physically stronger than him, as he was stronger than Elizabeth.

His thoughts kept moving around in circles. He was thinking about all that had happened during those few months since that ball. He was thinking about the wedding day and the wedding night. It had all gone so well. She had really enjoyed it all, he needn't have worried. He was so happy.

He was sure that this night he wouldn't be able to sleep at all, he was simply too happy to sleep.

But he was wrong. Less than fifteen minutes later he was fast asleep, snoring very softly, his arms still around her and his chest still against her back.

...

Elizabeth woke up in the small hours, wondering where she was. She was feeling a little stiff and needed to turn to her other side, but there was something holding her down. It was almost dark, the only light came from the last embers in the fire-place.

She felt Jonathan breath against her neck, and immediately it all came back to her. That they had married, that they had danced together, that they had made love to each other and that they had made love to each other again. It was all like a dream, very unreal. But the feeling of his warm body against hers was very real and quit a bit sweaty.

She wanted to move without waking him up. So she just wriggled down on her back, his arms still around her, putting her legs over his and turning her head so she could see his face in the near darkness.

He looked so sweet when he was asleep. So peaceful and so sweet. She stroke his cheek, careful not to wake him. Tomorrow - or was it today, she didn't know what time it was - they would travel all day, he would need his sleep. And so would she. She put her arm around him, cuddled closer to him, and dozed off like that, with her head against his chest, enjoying his warmth. Her last conscious thoughts were: "How did this happen? How did _he_ happen to me?"

And then: "How did I get so lucky?"

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you very much for reviewing! Please keep doing that, it means so much!

It wasn't easy to make love to music in those days! No radio, no gramophones, no Ipods, no computers. These limitations of the era is part of what makes it fun to write about for me.

Anthony's and Edith's era had its limitations in that respect too. They could have had a record player during their wedding night if they had wanted to, but then they would have had to get up and start the record again after every song. The long-playing records were still far into the future in the year of 1920, and 'looping' still further.

Hope you learnt something about Victorian corsets here! At least I did.

My last chapter got almost twice as many 'views' as a usual chapter of this story during its day of publication. I wonder if that was caused by a new wave of interest in Anthony/Edith. Or was it perhaps just caused by me (or rather Lady Elizabeth and Sir Jonathan) mentioning the male and female organs of reproduction by their real names? So people searching for those words on the net may have happened to get to my chapter. I hope they were not too disappointed!


	32. Interlude: The Earl of Grantham, 1920

AN: If you don't remember/haven't read what happened to Cora earlier on in this story, it is in chapter 16.

...

Shame.

That was the feeling that had taken hold of Robert Crawley now, as he watched Reverend Travis usher Edith and Sir Anthony to the vestry. He stumbled back to the nearest seat, sitting down in silence, putting his face in his hands, not wanting to take part in the general dim of indignant and upset conversations that was heard all around him in the church.

...

Shame.

That had also been his utmost feeling when Cora had told him about the rape that would later result in the birth of Edith. Shame about not having been there for her, not being able to protect his wife from that terrible crime.

He had a bad conscience about it ever since. Why wasn't he there? Some stupid business at Downton, he didn't even remember what it was any longer.

But it had been something else also, beside his feeling of shame. A craving for revenge. A desire not to let the bastard get away with it.

But it wasn't so easy, because he didn't know who the man was. Cora had said that she had never seen him before, but 'he looked nice'. That wasn't much of a description.

It was no one Cora knew, but perhaps it was someone Robert knew?

Who in London had a private carriage? More people than you would think. The aristocracy, of course, but then Cora would probably have known him. Professional men, practicing doctors and maybe lawyers. Businessmen, if they could afford it. And perhaps it hadn't been a private carriage at all, Cora was very vague about the details. And he didn't want to question her any more, it only made her cry again, and he felt so guilty.

He used two weeks in frantic searching before he gave up. The description was simply too indistinct. And what could he have done, even if he had found him? Given the man a good thrashing?

He couldn't have turned him in to the police, because he had promised Cora not to go to them. And he could well understand why she didn't want to. The first thing they would ask her was probably: "Why did you enter the carriage of an unknown man?"

It would all have been turned into her own fault. He knew that. He was close to ask her himself why she had entered that carriage, but he never did and he was glad he didn't. Because she would have taken it as an accusation and also because he already knew why. It was because of her naivety and her trusting nature. Her sweet disposition, her ability to think that other people were good. All of these were things that he loved her for, even though they weren't what he had married her for.

...

Shame.

That was also what he felt about his reasons for marrying Cora.

She had been the best looking heiress he had been able to find during that season in London. The season of 1890, when his father had told him he had to marry a girl with money. That it had been the only way to save Downton. He had really been too young to marry, barely twenty-one, but Downton had been on the verge of ruin. So he had pretended to Cora that he was in love with her. And she was - he was fairly sure of that - in love with him, so he didn't feel all that bad about it. At least she got the man she wanted.

Robert had no experience at all of the physical side of love when he married. He had hardly any knowledge of it either, not much more than some lewd whispers among his schoolmates, when he always had pretended to know more than he did and have more experience than he had.

The only other thing was his father's harsh comment when Robert asked him about it: "It is just like the horses, nothing to fuss about. You have seen that often enough!"

"Like horses? Really?" Robert was incredulous. He had a quick flash of his mother and father...well, abolish the thought!

"You know what I mean!" his father added. "You have her on her back on the bed, then you make her spread her legs and you will find that entry between them. The rest is just like the horses."

...

Robert was pretty sure he was a disappointment to Cora in the beginning. That she had expected something more of him than the rushed and hurried way he used to make love to her. Feeling her disappointment made it even more difficult for him. He had been so embarrassed in the beginning, so shy. He had barely dared to kiss her, he hadn't dared to undress her, only folded up her skirt or the lower part of her nightgown, taking away the bare minimum of her underwear, if she was wearing any. But how was he to know? No one had ever told him more than the basic facts.

It was actually Cora that had taught him, later on, when she had managed to overcome her own shyness. She had showed him how nice it was to go slower, to let the kiss last a little longer. To kiss with the whole mouth, not only the lips. To kiss other things than the lips. To caress the body. To be naked together.

And it had suddenly been so good, he was really thankful to her. And he was also gradually falling so very much in love with her. To this day she was the only woman he had ever made love to.

Even if it had been close that time with Jane.

...

When Cora told him she was pregnant with Edith he was absolutely devastated. He had just managed to forget about that horrible crime, at least most of the time, and now it was all thrown right back at his face. With extra complications, because Mary was a girl, and if this child was a boy and they kept it, it would be the next earl.

He had been so, so relieved that Edith turned out to be a girl. He had been looking around for a way to get rid of the child if it was a boy, and it wouldn't have been easy. Not in a way that would allow the child to live a descent life, without the truth of its origin ever coming out.

He honestly didn't know what he would have done if the child had been a boy. But deep down he suspected that he would have simply accepted it. It wouldn't be easy to get rid of a child, he would have to bribe the doctor to say it had died and then have a funeral with an empty coffin. And where would he find someone who was both willing to take care of the child and keep the secret?

It would have been very difficult to accept that a child that wasn't biologically a Crawley inherited the title and Downton. It would probably have been the hardest thing he would ever have done.

But why was it so difficult to let Edith marry Sir Anthony?

...

The first time Robert met Anthony Strallan he had been ten years old. Robert's parents had moved up from London to Downton Abbey with their two children, following the death of Robert's grandfather.

He didn't know exactly when Anthony was born, but he was probably a year or two older than Robert. At least Anthony had been a little taller than Robert at the time, but then again Robert used to be shorter than most children his age and Anthony's parents were both very tall, especially his mother.

He had never liked Anthony very much, although he had said to Edith that he did. The few times they had met during their childhood, Anthony had been more interested in reading than in playing. Robert found him terribly dull.

...

When Sir Anthony interrupted his and Edith's wedding ceremony Robert had been both surprised and shocked. He had thought the old man would have been only too happy about marrying the blossoming young girl.

"What!" Robert had exclaimed, not being able to understand what was happening.

"I can't do it!" Anthony had said. "You know it's wrong, you told me so yourself, several times."

And that was the moment when Robert had started to feel ashamed. Because he saw the agony in that very kind man's eyes. And he saw the shocked and sad look in Edith's face. Edith, who had been brimming over with joy, all the way to church, all the way up the aisle. Smiling and talking about how much she loved Anthony, how happy she was to marry him and how glad she was that her Papa supported their marriage now.

"My dear chap..." Robert had said, trying to calm Anthony down, trying to show him that he was comfortable with their wedding now. But it didn't help, it was probably too late.

"No. I never should have let it get this far", Sir Anthony had continued. "I should have stopped it long ago. I tried to stop it."

Robert had been lost for words. He watched while Edith took Anthony's hand and pleaded with him, talking about how happy they were going to be, while Anthony whispered things to Edith that not even Robert, who was standing closest, could hear. It was heartbreaking to hear Edith, he felt so ashamed for not supporting her earlier. Maybe for the first time he felt that he really cared for this daughter, who had experienced so little love in her life. The daughter that had always been overlooked, by him and by everyone else.

"Anthony, it is too late for this", Robert had said then, when at long last he found his voice again.

That was when Reverend Travis interrupted.

"Might I suggest we all take a step back..."

...

So now Robert was sitting with his face in his hands, trying to figure out why he had been so much against this wedding. Was it because he resented Anthony? Or, which was very much worse, was it because he resented Edith?

Maybe Robert resented Edith because she had taken up the place in Cora's womb that could at that time have been occupied by a child of Robert's own. Maybe even a son.

But did that give him the right to destroy her life?

Edith had never felt like his own daughter. He had been able to forget it all at times during these many years, but only temporarily. He and Cora had decided never to speak about Edith as anything else than the daughter of both of them, even when the two of them were on their own. He had managed to keep that, although only barely so.

By some strange joke of faith Edith was also the daughter who looked most like himself. When people saw the three sisters they used to say that Edith took after her father, while the other two looked more like their mother. Robert usually smiled at that. Perhaps Edith did take after her father, he didn't know what her father looked like. But he knew of course that people said those things to flatter him.

He sometimes wondered why he couldn't love Edith. She had no other father than him and she was definitely Cora's child. He had a bad conscience for it at times.

If Edith thought her happiness lay in marrying that old man, why should he try to hinder it? Even if it irritated him that this dull and crippled old man should have the love of this young woman.

Deep down Robert knew that Anthony was good for Edith. He had seen her bloom during those last months.

...

When Robert saw Edith and Anthony coming out from the vestry again, hand in hand and smiling, he felt so relieved. So his daughter - well she was that, wasn't she, even if not in the biological sense of the word - had managed to persuade the man to go through with it. Robert smiled at Edith, but she only had eyes for Sir Anthony. Sir Anthony himself swept with his eyes over the whole congregation, staying on no one in particular, before making an excuse and turning back to Travis at the altar. After Sir Anthony's excuses, Robert saw him smile at Edith, and Edith smile back.

The last thing that happened before the ceremony started again was that Anthony gave Robert a very quick reassuring look. He obviously had no intention to interrupt this again.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! And thank you so very much for reviewing!

...

I re-watched the very first episode of DA, to get the years right. It is so good!

And Cora is reading The Sketch.

I didn't get the years right (and I don't really think Fellowes did either, but never mind about that). Violet said Robert married Cora 24 years ago, and that she herself has ruled Downton for 30 years.

But I decided:

1. Violet is bad at counting and likes to exaggerate, the last of these is obvious from the series.

2. To suit my story Cora and Robert married a little more than twenty years ago from 1912, that is in late 1890 or early 1891, having Mary in the beginning of 1892, Edith in late 1894 and Sybil in early 1896.

3. Patrick and Violet ruled Downton for 26 years, between 1880 and 1906. Robert and Cora lived with their parents/in-laws at Downton until then, like Mary and Matthew do in S3. Violet moved out after her husband's death.

...

It is more than two weeks since I last published a chapter of this story. I thought I had given it up, but I obviously haven't.


	33. August in Paris

Paris was considered a very romantic place to visit, in spite of the many revolutions and wars. God knows why, Elizabeth thought. It was just a big city, not unlike London in many aspects. Big houses, heavy traffic. Charts and carriages and coaches. People and horses, other animals as well. And quite a bit dirty. One had to watch out not to step into horse crap.

There were road works for the Hausmann Boulevards all over the place, and that was not much more romantic than the building of the system of sewers in London, which had taken place during the time she was in India. That had at least made her old city a better smelling place when she returned to it. Or at least a bit less foul-smelling.

The biggest difference between Paris and London in Elizabeth's opinion was that the people here spoke French. Elizabeth had taught herself French from books, not knowing exactly how to pronounce it. Here in Paris she could read signs, menus, book-titles and so on, but she didn't understand a word of what anyone said. After a week or so, when her ear had got more used to the sound of the French language, she realised that they swallowed the endings of many of the words. Very awkward, Elizabeth thought. Why write things down if you don't intend to pronounce them?

Jonathan had no problems speaking French. He had learnt it at school, and also visited Paris and other parts of France a number of times before. He seemed to be coming into his own in Paris, talking to salesmen and waiters and asking strangers for the way, even joking effortlessly in this foreign language. Elizabeth found Jonathan's French just as impossible to understand as everybody else's, so it was probably quite good.

It was obvious that he enjoyed himself, showing her around, taking care of all the practical details for the two of them. Buying tickets for concerts or the opera, ordering food, finding the way to the museums and the sights. Playing husband and wife. No, _being_ husband and wife.

...

"So now you are the mistress of Locksley, my darling! I hope you will enjoy that!" said Sir Jonathan when they had dinner in a small restaurant their first evening in Paris, after thoroughly testing the beds of their new hotel room and finding them up to standard.

"I'm sure I will be very bad at it. Your big houses were not what attracted me to you, whatever you may think. You needn't have shown them to me."

"Of course I needed to show them to you! I had to let you know what you could expect if you married me."

"Yes, perhaps you are right. But Locksley kind of intimidated me. It is so big, all of it is. Especially that giant ball-room."

"My parents built that for me when I was somewhere around twenty-five. We had quite a lot of balls there for some years. I guess they hoped I would find someone to marry. But there was no one that interested me at those balls, usually it was the same local people. But I like to dance, as you know, so I can't complain."

He was quiet for a while, then he added: "They should have spent that money on sending me to India instead. To look for you."

"When you were twenty-five I was still living in London. And only a child, only fourteen. We didn't leave until I was fifteen."

"Ah! I didn't think of that! Well, I would have had to wait some years then. You were nineteen when I was thirty, that would have been alright, I guess, if your parents agreed."

She felt a little sad, wondering what had happened if her parents had cared to send her to London for the season when she was around twenty, like they had done with Celia and Christin. Would she have met this wonderful man almost fifteen years earlier? Would he have fallen in love with her then, the way he had done now? But, of course, she would have had nowhere to live in London at the time. Henrik was still at university. He hadn't got his big house until the year before he married Louisa. By then Elizabeth was almost thirty and considered too old for marriage.

"Don't worry, it is perfect as it is", Jonathan said softly when he saw the sadness in her eyes. "No use to fret over things we can't change! I'm happy we have each other now, let's just make the best of that!"

After that he went back to talking about Locksley.

"If you look carefully you can see that the ballroom wing is an addition. It was built outside the original outside walls. We can tear it down if you like, I don't use it much any longer, and it's expensive to keep it heated up."

"I don't know, we will have to think about that. Anyway, I wasn't attracted to you because I wanted to play house at Locksley, that rather scared than attracted me."

"What was it that attracted you then?" he asked softly, not really sure that he wanted to know.

She thought for a few moments, there were so many things. But then she remembered how he had smiled at her when she had first told him she wasn't married.

"Your smile", she said, quite simply.

That made him smile, of course. That wonderful, somewhat embarrassed smile, that lighted up his whole face. That smile that always made her knees go weak.

"Yes, exactly", she said, smiling back at him. "That's just it!"

...

"I think you should have some new clothes made while we are in Paris", Jonathan said at the breakfast table on their second day in Paris.

"I have had so many new clothes made this year already, I don't really need any more. I had three new evening dresses made up in India for the London season. Thanks to you I only had the chance to use one of them. And I also had my wedding dress made."

"I still think you should have something made here. Paris is the capital of fashion, I'm sure you know that. You will get the very latest."

She didn't really want any new clothes, but she let him persuade her. Because she felt that it was important to him, that he wanted to have his wife dressed in something that he himself had provided her with. So she had a couple of new dresses and also a new coat made by a French dressmaker. She was to come in for two fittings and then it would all be ready two days before they left Paris. She even agreed to have a new crinoline made in the new style that was coming, with a straight front and steel bands only on the back and sides. It wasn't very wide, and Elizabeth prefered that style to the older one, it was easier to walk in.

"So, are you happy then", Elizabeth said teasingly when they were out in the street again. "Now that you have managed to get your wife to dress up in the latest fashion from Paris. So I wont embarrass you when I meet all your neighbours."

"You would never embarrass me", he said very earnestly. "You would be the most beautiful woman in any room, whatever you were wearing. Even if you were dressed in a potato sack. Or stark naked."

"I'm sure that would go down well with your Yorkshire neighbours!" she said with a laugh.

...

There were two things Elizabeth really loved about Paris, both of them down by the river Seine. One was the old church, Notre Dame de Paris. The other was the bouquinistes, the second hand booksellers.

"Have you read Notre-Dame de Paris? The Hunchback of Notre Dame. By Victor Hugo", she asked him when they were standing outside the church, ready to go in.

"I have. I even bought it here in Paris when it was new. In 1831, my parents brought me here to improve my French. It was the first time I was in France, I was only fourteen. That book did wonders for my French. I just had to read on, it was so exciting. And I looked up all the words I didn't know."

"I read it in English, perhaps I was fourteen also, at least I was still in London. It is very exciting, but it is also very sad. Poor Quasimodo. Poor Esmeralda. What a dreadful end for both of them!"

...

"I'm sure I will live cheaper with you than I did on my own", Jonathan grumbled one afternoon when Elizabeth refused to get into a jeweler's shop with him, to buy 'something nice' for her.

"I wont love you any more because you squander a lot of money on me", she complained. "I have that lovely golden heart you gave me for my birthday, and my new rings, and many things since before. I don't need any new jewelry."

"But I just want to show you how much I love you", he pleaded.

"You show me that all the time, in so many ways. And you keep telling me. There is no risk I will forget", she said with a loving smile.

He wasn't pleased, but he didn't argue. She wasn't like other women he was sure, but wasn't that part of why he loved her?

"You think I am stingy", she added after a while. "But we have always had to be economical, since we are so many brothers and sisters. My father grew up in a place like Locksley, a big house with a butler and even footmen, but I grew up in London. In a small house, not a big one like Henrik's or yours."

"Or ours", he corrected her. "With All My Worldly Goods I Thee Endow, remember?"

"All right, not like ours. Not even half as big. Very few servants, only the cook and a maid and sometimes a nanny. And we were already five children before we moved to India. Six with the baby, that's Celia, she was just a couple of months when we went there. I'm not complaining, we had a good life, there are many that are much worse off. I just want you to understand that I'm used to think before I buy things."

Then she added: "Besides, I would rather buy books."

...

Rummaging around in the booksellers boots was a sheer delight for Elizabeth. She loved books, and here she could find books on many subjects, and in many languages, as well as novels and poetry. The first time they were there they were in a hurry, they only had half an hour to spend there. But they decided to return later on, take half a day, or even a whole day, just to look for books.

So on one of their last days in Paris, they went back to the Seine to look through the booksellers' stands a little more thoroughly. Elizabeth found a booth that had specialized in non-fiction books, both in French and in other languages. Among the books on mathematics and science there, she found a thick volume in German about a medical subject. She took it as a sign to see that kind of book there, when she had just started to suspect that something wonderful and incredible was about to happen to her. Something even more wonderful and incredible than being married to Jonathan. But of course the two things were inseparable from each other, because one of the things had caused the other.

So she put this book in the middle of the heap of science and mathematics books she had selected, handing them all over to Jonathan to pay for, hoping that he wouldn't notice that particular volume and ask any questions about it. He didn't know much German, so perhaps the risk was small. Hopefully he didn't know what _Kindbettfieber_ meant.

...

The last evening in Paris they were having dinner at another small restaurant. He noticed that she was very quiet and subdued.

"What is it you are thinking about? Don't you want to go home to Locksley?"

"No, it is not that, it's just that..." she trailed off. Maybe she shouldn't tell him, maybe it was too early, maybe it was nothing at all.

"Just that _what_? Please tell me! Don't make me worry!"

So she made up her mind to tell him. After all, if it really _was_ something, it would be _his_ something as well as hers, he had the right to know.

"Do you know about...periods...women's periods?"

"So now it is _your_ turn to question _me_ about my biology homework", he said with an amused smile. "Yes, I know about that."

She didn't return the smile, she had to get this out first if she would get it out at all now.

So she looked down at her food, scared to see his reaction, and a little embarrassed about talking about things like that. Then she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. "Well, mine was due six days ago. And it has always been very punctual. It is probably too early to say, but maybe it wont come for another nine months..."

It took a few seconds for him to understand what she was saying. Then he reached out his hand across the table, put it under her chin and gently raised her face, wanting her to see the happiness in his face.

"This is fantastic news! But I understand that we have to wait and see for a while yet", he said as soon as he saw her looking at him again. "Oh, my darling, I didn't think I could get any happier than I already was!"

So, at last, she dared to let that new kind of flickering happiness she had felt in her belly the last couple of days show on her face. But for some silly reason it only brought tears to her eyes.

"What's the matter, my sweet, don't you want this?" He looked worried again. "I thought you wanted children just as much as I do."

"Of course I want it! I don't know why I cry. I am happy!"

Then she added: "I guess these are happy tears!"

After that she started sobbing so uncontrollably that he had to move over to her side of the table and put his arms around her.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you so much for reviewing! I do appreciate every review so very much!

I love Paris almost as much as I love London. The negative opinions expressed about Paris in this chapter are Lady Elizabeth's, not mine. The same goes for her opinions about the French language. I think French is beautiful, I would have liked to be able to use it more than I am, and I have no impertinent opinions whatsoever about the differences between written and spoken French.

If you look up Anthony Strallan's house, Barn Hall, Beaconsfield, you can find a photo with that extra wing, almost as big as the rest of the house. I made a small story around it here, just for fun. I don't know if there was really a ball-room in there, but it seems likely. I haven't decided yet when and why it will come down. Because it has to come down before Lady Edith goes to Locksley in the first Christmas special, 1919-1920. In reality it was taken down some time after 1969, according to a photo on Flickr.

The bouquinistes by the Seine are now a UNESCO World Heritage! There had been second hand booksellers along the Seine for a long time when this story took place. In 1859, they were more officially organized by the city of Paris. Each of them was allotted a certain space, for which they paid a yearly fee.

_Kindbettfieber_ is German for puerperal fever or childbed fever.


	34. A Girl and a Boy

Lady Elizabeth Strallan had still been a virgin on her thirty-fifth birthday. But she had every intention to make up for the many years of marital bliss she had missed out on compared to women who married in their early twenties.

She loved her husband deeply, and never stopped marveling over the fact that he had chosen her. She enjoyed the physical side of marriage very much, and was never afraid of showing her husband that. She was quite diligent in her pursuit of bodily pleasure, and Sir Jonathan was very happy about her eagerness.

Often these physical meetings between Lady Elizabeth and her husband was started by a long gaze between the two of them across the dining room table in the Strallan household at Locksley or in London. Sir Jonathan knew what it ment when his wife held his gaze in that particular way. To bed early, to sleep late. And as the years went by, it never ceased to fill him with thrill.

It was a mystery but perhaps also a blessing that this frequent and fervent lovemaking only resulted in two children, the little girl born during the first year of their marriage, and the little boy born eleven years later.

...

The girl was born early enough to get the old ladies started on counting the months since the wedding and finding it lacking of at least a few weeks. But Lady Strallan had really been a virgin on her wedding-night, even though she was perhaps already pregnant when morning came. It was just that the little girl was born a few weeks prematurely, although she was quite healthy in every way and just as big as any ordinary newborn baby.

And even if they _had_ started that part of their married life a few weeks in advance, what concern would that have been to anyone but themselves? They were both unmarried and definitely of age, they were even quite advanced in age for an engaged couple. Why should anyone begrudge them a little foretaste of what was to come? But they had kept their hands outside each other's clothes - at least most of the time - and made do with the long embraces and deep kisses they exchanged whenever there was an oppurtunity for them to be alone.

...

The boy, little Anthony, was an unexpected blessing. His mother was already forty-five years old when she got pregnant with him, and long since resigned to the fact that her childbearing days were over. She didn't realize she was pregnant until the baby actually started kicking in a very unmistakable way. Suddenly she felt ten years younger. Before that she had thought her periods had disappeared as a result of her advanced age.

She was a little afraid to tell her husband the news. The first few years after Emilia's birth, they had hoped for a little sister or brother as a playmate to her. But nothing had happened, and it wasn't for lack of trying. It hadn't bothered them much, they had each other and they had that one child that they loved and adored above everything else in the world. And they knew they had started their married life a little too late to rise a big family.

Elizabeth needn't have worried about Jonathan's reaction to this late and unexpected pregnancy. He was thoroughly delighted by the prospect of having another little girl or a small boy. The only problem was that he started to be very protective of her, which sometimes was quite endearing but at other times annoyed her no end.

Because he did worry. She was forty-five, she would be forty-six before the child was born. It was ten years since she was last pregnant. A pregnancy was a great risk, even for a younger woman than her. He was trying to be optimistic, trying not to worry, just be happy about the coming baby. Because, if he had only known that all would go as it should, he would have been brimming over with happiness. But how could he know that, before it was all over and mother and child were both alive and well?

He was endeavouring not to let her see his worries. But actually, he wanted her to take it easy during the whole pregnancy. Stay at home, keep calm, have a nurse look after her, never leave the house. Do the indoor things she usually did, the book-keeping, the teaching of their daughter. Read books, play on the piano-forte.

But of course she wouldn't hear about anything like that. Elizabeth went for long walks and she went out riding with their daughter. Jonathan had taught Elizabeth how to ride when she was expecting Emilia, using Locksley's calmest horse. She had enjoyed it very much and showed quite a talent for it. So how could he deny her to ride now, during her second pregnancy, when he had encouraged it during her first? Now that she had already known how to ride for ten years. He only managed to make her go back to riding the calmest horse, the most docile one except Emilia's little pony.

Jonathan had worried about Elizabeth when she was expecting Emilia also, of course he had. But it was different now, he couldn't remember it being quite as bad as it was now. Maybe it was because he was so much older himself, he was more than ten very happy years older. Being older made him more aware of how short and precious life was, how easily it could be extinguished.

And, of course, he also worried because of Emilia, he couldn't bear the thought of his ten-year-old daughter losing her mother. But most of all, and he knew he was selfish, he couldn't bear the thought of himself being left without Elizabeth.

...

There was something else that was different with this pregnancy also, something that actually made it better than the first one. Elizabeth herself didn't worry as much as she had done the first time.

Perhaps that was because she knew what childbirth was all about by now. She had been tested and she had passed the test.

...

Little Anthony started crying the moment he was born, and he didn't stop for hours. Nothing could comfort him, his little face was red and twisted in despair. They tried to make him take his mother's breast, but he only spit it out. They carried him around, they rocked him softly, they whispered soothingly to him, they sang lullabies for him. But nothing helped.

Perhaps his desperate cry was a protest against being brought into this life, the life that would bring him so much agony and heartache. Maybe he was complaining about all the terrible and all the humiliating things that were going to happen to him later on. The early death of his parents. The many miscarriages and the ultimate death of his wife. The death of his newborn son. The humiliation from Lady Mary at that garden party. The horrors of war. The injury and the many months at the hospital. The loss of the use of his arm. The slightening by the powerful Crawleys that made him think he had to give up the woman who was the love of his life. All the regrets and the bad conscience about having hurt and humiliated that same woman in that terrible way.

If he had known that all this would happen to him, he might have kept crying forever. But that first long cry was almost the only time he really lost his temper during his childhood. He was a remarkably happy child. His sister was almost eleven years older, so there was absolutely no rivalry between the two of them. He was more like a toy than a sibling or a playmate to her.

...

When the newborn Anthony had at last stopped crying and was having his first meal from his mother's breast, Sir Jonathan looked at the pair of them. What a sight they were! Like the Virgin Mary with Jesus at her bosom. But he knew that his wife was no virgin, he had seen to that himself many years ago, he thought with a wry smile. She was closer to fifty than forty by now, but to him she was still a young, beautiful woman. Especially like that with their newborn son sucking greedily at her breast. The sight filled him with a strange mixture of tenderness and desire.

Almost twelve years ago, on that fateful ball at the Hatfields, after seeing her for less than a quarter of an hour and without exchanging a single word with her, he had decided that this woman was going to be his. He was quite proud of himself for making such a thoroughly accurate decision and even more so for making it come true.

Because there hadn't been a single day during all these years with her that he had regretted that decision. He had been right from the very start. She didn't only _look_ remarkable, she was remarkable in every single way. Kind, funny, loving, intelligent, passionate, a good mother and the most wonderful wife.

...

Half a year later Sir Jonathan was sitting together with his wife on the sofa in their Locksley Library. He had a big smile on his face as he was lovingly watching his two children, who were sitting together on a blanket in front of the fireplace. His eleven-year-old daughter was playing peekaboo with his six-month-old son. Little Anthony's very first tooth could be seen like a small grain of rice in his laughing mouth. He had more hair than usual for a baby his age, a full head of white fluff. His eyes were as blue as his mother's.

Baby Antony laughed happily, waving his little arms in delight. Peels of laughter came from the little boy every time his sister took her hands away from her face and showed him her smiling eyes. He giggled so much that he had difficulties to remain sitting up. Sitting was a thing he had learnt to master only recently.

Elizabeth looked lovingly at her husband's happy face. "So you have got what you wanted then", she said softly. "What you wished for all those years ago when I and my relatives first visited you at Locksley."

"Yes, I know!" he agreed. "Isn't it amazing! A girl and a boy."

And she was so glad he remembered, because he didn't have her perfect memory. So if he remembered something she knew that it was something that was important to him. And she was so happy that by some strange miracle she had been able to give him just that.

A girl and a boy.

...

All of this was still in the future the day Sir Jonathan and Lady Elizabeth Strallan returned to Locksley from their wedding trip to Paris.

That day they were both full of hopes and exitement about what their lives together would bring. Would everything be alright with the child they were possibly expecting? Would Elizabeth be able to settle down in the countryside? Would their love stand the test of time? No - that was not a question. That was a certainty. Of course it would!

They had each other, it was the most marvellous thing! They both thought so. Whatever life would bring, as long as they were allowed to face it together, they would cope.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you so much for reviewing!

I thought it was high time for a little happy-baby-Anthony-fluff. And I might be wrong, but I'm fairly sure I am the first fanfiction writer to let Sir Anthony play peekaboo. (Hope I'm not the last!) I felt he deserved that after all the crying I put him through earlier in this chapter.


	35. Fears

When they returned home to Locksley after their wedding trip Sir Jonathan showed Lady Elizabeth a little more in detail what things were necessary to do on the estate. After that they decided how they would share the work between themselves. Sir Jonathan remembered Lady Elizabeth's fear of being bored. So it was decided that she was going to handle the indoor staff, go through menus and things like that, while Jonathan continued to take care of everything connected with farming. That included the tenants and the outdoor staff, like the groom, the stable boy and the gardener. Elizabeth also took care of the bookkeeping, which she did both much faster and much better than Jonathan had done it himself.

Elizabeth knew nothing about farming - that was a subject that had never interested her much and thus hadn't entered into her self-study curriculum in India. She was a London-girl - her years in India felt more like an interlude, although they were more numerous than her years in London. She had never expected to end up in the English countryside. But Jonathan said it would be good to have someone who was used to think before she bought anything taking care of the money. He would enjoy discussing any new expenditure for the farming with her, and trusted that she would acknowledge his expertise when it came to the details. If he couldn't persuade her that an expense was necessary, then perhaps it wasn't.

At first people got a little surprised hearing Sir Jonathan say he had to ask his wife about any bigger expenses. They considered him terribly henpecked. But they got used to it, even though there were probably still people who found the Strallans' way of sharing the responsibilities of the estate very odd, and laughed behind their backs.

...

The first few days after their return Jonathan worried a great deal about Elizabeth's possible pregnancy, asking her every day if her period had come. After a couple of days she grew tired of that, telling him that she was most probably expecting a baby and would tell him immediately if anything happened to contradict that assumption. So he kept quiet about it, silently happy about every new day that made him more likely to soon become a father.

The book-keeping and dinner planning didn't fill Elizabeth's days. But everything was so new to her, the estate, the neighbourhood, living in the countryside, farming. And she knew she would have much more to do once the child was borne.

So she used these first few months of her life at Locksley to get to know the estate and the neighbourhood. She went for long walks, together with Jonathan when he could spare the time, but more often on her own. She met and talked to all the tenants and their families and played with their children. She was a quick learner, and remembered all their names without making any effort at all, they just got stuck in her head. In the beginning she astonished the tenants waiting in the hallway to see her husband by asking them if everything was well with their wives and children, using the right names, even for the smallest ones. But they got used to it, like they got used to all the other strange ways of this very tall and somewhat peculiar wife that Sir Jonathan Strallan had brought with him home from London.

Jonathan also used those first months to teach Elizabeth how to ride a horse. Elizabeth was quite reluctant, she was a city girl and of the opinion that a horse was dangerous in both ends and uncomfortable in the middle. So she was a bit scared about the whole thing at first. But Jonathan considered it necessary for a lady on an estate like Locksley to be able to ride. After a while she enjoyed riding very much. She obviously had a talent for it, but she still kept using the most docile of all the horses at Locksley. She thought about the little one she was expecting, and didn't want to risk falling off the horse. Riding the more lively horses could wait until after the baby was born.

...

They had a couple of dinner parties, inviting all the nearby neighbours, giving them a chance to get to know Elizabeth. Patrick Crawley was present at one of these parties. Jonathan didn't dare invite Patrick's parents, that would have been presumptuous. If they cared to see Elizabeth they would invite the two of them to Downton Abbey first. But Patrick was more like a friend, in spite of the age-gap, there were some fifteen years between them.

"Thank you for introducing Lady Violet to me!" Patrick Crawley had said to Jonathan over the punch and cigars. "She is such a lovely girl, so charming and so beautiful. I have been seeing quite a lot of her lately. And in due time, when she gets a little bit older and ready to settle down, maybe, who knows..."

At first Jonathan didn't remember introducing any charming Lady Violet to Patrick. Then, suddenly, he remembered that horrible girl that had hindered him from searching for Elizabeth. He was very surprised that Patrick had liked her, but then again, that was good, wasn't it? He didn't have to have a bad conscience for dumping her on Patrick any longer. Although Jonathan had great difficulties in understanding what was so charming about Lady Violet.

But Jonathan found it wisest not to say anything about that to Patrick Crawley. Instead he only smiled and said: "I had just met that girl myself, but I'm so glad if I have been of any help!"

Which was absolutely true.

...

One morning Jonathan was woken up by a quiet sobbing.

He put his arms around Elizabeth's trembling body, hushing her softly.

"What is the matter, my darling? Why are you crying?"

"I am so scared!" she sobbed. "I want my mummy!"

He wondered what had happened. Had he offended her in any way? They had made love last evening, and all had been good. All had been so very, very good. But maybe she hadn't thought so? He knew he had got quite carried away, but he thought he had carried her with him, so to speak. Had he misunderstood anything?

"Hush, my little darling. What is it that scares you so?"

He hesitated before he added: "Is it me?" He had to struggle to get these words out, but he just had to ask.

"No! Of course not!" she almost shouted between her sobs. He felt so relieved.

"What is it then? Please tell me! I would get you your mother if I only could. But she is so far away."

"It's the baby. I worry so much about it. That there is something wrong with it. That I will miscarry. Or that the baby will die."

"Don't worry, it will all be fine, I'm sure!" he said, holding her tight against his chest. But of course he couldn't be sure about that. It was what he kept telling himself, though. Because he was also worried, having a baby was really a big risk and he knew that.

And she hadn't even mentioned the thing that worried him the most - the risk that Elizabeth herself would die of childbirth. Now that he had her he didn't know how he had ever been able to live without her.

...

Elizabeth hadn't really missed her mother before her wedding.

Yes, of course she had wanted her mother to see her dressed as a bride, but she hadn't missed 'the talk'. She had known the essentials already, and however much she had hated Jonathan's biology talk during their wedding night, she was quite happy about it now when she thought back on it. Because it showed her how thoughtful and considerate he was, how much he cared about her. She could imagine what a shock it might be to a new wife who had no prior knowledge at all of the marital act, if her husband just went ahead without explaining. And Jonathan had been sensitive and sensible enough to understand that, and had wanted to protect her from it. Which in a way showed her how much he loved her more than all his ardent declarations of love did. Deeds count more than words, in love as in all other aspects of life.

And also, looking back on it now, with her greater knowledge and greater experience of these things, she couldn't help finding their whole wedding night conversation quite a bit funny.

...

Jonathan was the sweetest man really, the sweetest man ever. How could he even think she was crying because of him? And he didn't say: "You are thirty-five years old, grownup, married, soon to be a mother. You are too old to cry for your own mother." Instead he said he would have got her mother to come there if he only could.

Elizabeth did miss her mother very much now that she was expecting a child. Because her mother had given birth to eight healthy children, the first one when she was twenty-one, the last one when she was forty-one. Her mother knew all there was to know about childbearing, and Elizabeth, who was already thirty-five, knew next to nothing.

One month after her period had gone missing, Elizabeth had consulted the local doctor who had confirmed she was expecting a baby. But she still wondered if it could really be true. Because she noticed no other signs of pregnancy. She had no problems keeping her food down, she felt no nausea. Maybe she was a tiny bit less skinny than she used to, but that was perhaps caused by changing from Indian to English food. Her belly wasn't getting any bigger. Nothing whatsoever happened and it worried her...

...

Jonathan tried his best to keep her happy, but two days later he woke up to her sobbings again, although she was trying to be quiet. He comforted her as best he could, but he had even less knowledge of childbearing than she had. He realized that it would be better for her to speak to a woman who knew what it was like to bear children. So he started to make plans.

"I honestly don't know what is the matter with me", Elizabeth said. "I never used to cry, I was happy. I never was one for complaining, I tried to see the bright side of things. Or the funny."

Some days later Jonathan had managed to get some work finished early, so he was able to take some time off.

"I can't get your mother here, but what do you say about going to London for a week? Then we could see your brothers and sisters, and you could also talk to Louisa about having babies. After all she has two healthy children, and she seems to be quite healthy herself. What do you think?"

"Yes, I would like that very much!" Elizabeth answered. "But you must think I am childish for wanting my mother when I am so old."

"I miss my mother at times as well, even though she has been dead for so many years. And my father also, of course. So I think I can understand, at least part of it", he said softly. "I had no living family at all after my mother died. Not until I married you."

"I'm sorry, I'm being selfish. I haven't thought of it like that. I can't really imagine what it would be like, not to have any family at all."

"Well, you see, I _do_ have a family now, I have you. You and the little one."

...

It was really too early to talk about it, but Elizabeth got Louisa on her own and told her about her pregnancy. Louisa was very happy for her sister-in-law, all smiles and congratulations.

"Please don't tell anybody", Elizabeth said. "Well, I guess I can't ask you to keep it from Henrik, but tell him not to say it to anyone else right now."

"Alright, but why do you tell _me_, if you are so anxious to keep it a secret?"

"I worry so much. I keep crying. So Jonathan thought it would be good for me to talk about it with someone who has borne children herself."

"He is a good man, isn't he? I think you have been very lucky", Louisa said. "But you are quite a good person yourself...Alright, what is it that worries you then?"

When she told Louisa about all her misgivings, Louisa just laughed.

"Don't worry! I think you should be happy that you don't get any morning sickness! Most women would envy you. You are the first one I have ever heard complaining about not having to bow down and vomit in a chamber pot."

When put like that Elizabeth could see the absurdity in it as well. She laughed, feeling a little embarrassed.

"And your belly will get large enough in due time, just wait and see! I looked like a football or something in the end. And I had difficulties getting up from sofas and getting out of bed. My ribs knocked into my womb if I tried to lean forwards, so I was afraid of hurting the baby. And there wasn't much room left for my lungs. Or my bladder. But I guess it wont affect you so much because you are so tall and I am so short."

Elizabeth thought about that for a moment.

"Does it hurt very much to give birth?" Elizabeth asked then. That was another thing that worried her.

"Yes, it does hurt quite a bit. I wont lie to you. And it can take a very long time. Many hours, even days. But it is so much worth it! It is the best thing I have ever done. I love Martin and Isabella so very much, they are more important to me than anything else in this world."

She was quiet for a moment, while Elizabeth contemplated this.

"I'll let you in on a secret - having them doesn't stop you from worrying", Louisa added. "Suddenly there is someone in the world who is more important than yourself. I worry about them constantly. I worry that they might be ill or that they might get ill. I worry that they will have an accident. But I have learnt not to let the worries get the better of me. Because I am so happy about them, the happiness is much greater than the worries. Try to think about that instead, how wonderful it will be to become a mother! Because there will never be an end to your worries once you have children, you just have to get used to it. Maybe you will stop worrying when they are grownup, but I am not even sure of that."

"I don't know if that is really a comfort... But actually, I ought to be happy, of course. I was so close not to get to be a mother at all. If it hadn't been for Jonathan..."

...

AN: Thank you for reading! And thank you so much for your lovely reviews!

I have borrowed a few things from my own pregnancies for this chapter. I wont tell you what. Except that I never puked...

...

To guest, who wrote a review to chapter 34:

Since I can't PM you I have to answer you like this. The rest of you can stop reading now if you want to.

Your review made me very, very happy. Thank you so much! I'm glad you like my Elizabeth and feel she is real enough to relate to. I am also happy that you enjoy my baby Anthony, I am quite fond of him myself. And yes, I have more chapters planned, and as long as I get reviews - like yours - I will keep writing to my planned ending.

I have a lot of misgivings about my writing, and always feel a little scared when I post a new chapter, feeling quite a bit presumptuous to write in English, since I am not a native English speaker. And also to write an Edith/Anthony story with very little Anthony and almost no Edith in it. Though the reviews I get are invariably very nice and friendly. Besides, a very important part of life is overcoming one's fears.

I hope you vill find your own kind of Jonathan! But I think you know that Jonathan is really something of a daydream, created by me, so he is a bit too good to be true. There are many good men out there, though I don't think any of them is quite as flawless as Sir Jonathan. Neither is, indeed, any woman.


	36. Interlude: Lady Edith, 1920, again

The wedding reception at Lady Edith's and Sir Anthony's wedding had been a dreary event. Everyone had smiled and toasted and congratulated them and tried to pretend they were happy for them, but Edith knew they were all thinking about Sir Anthony's inconstancy.

There was at least one person present who seemed to be genuinely happy for both of them, Mrs Emilia Cheetwood, Anthony's elder sister. Edith liked her very much. She knew that Emilia had been of great help to Anthony many times, both when his wife and newborn son died, and also when he had first returned from the war. Emilia had done her utmost to help her brother, though she had her own devastating problems to deal with.

Now Emilia told Edith that she had married the most sweet-tempered man in the world - which Edith already knew, of course. Anthony just looked embarrassed over his sister's praise, but then Emilia said she knew for certain that Anthony had been very lucky too, in marrying Edith. Which made Anthony smile proudly at his sister, the first genuine smile Edith had seen on his face during the whole reception.

Edith's own family and friends had managed to be friendly to her, but she could feel their coldness towards Anthony, even though they didn't say anything bad. Except for Granny, who had been horrible. Edith loved her Granny, but there was no more polite way to put it, she _had_ been horrible. Edith knew that Granny loved to say those pointed things, to shake people up a bit. But how could she be so cruel to Anthony, who was already so exhausted and vulnerable?

The bad mood prevailing at the party did nothing to diminish Edith's happiness, though. She loved him, she had made him marry her and she was sure he loved her too. She would have her wedding night, she would have her honeymoon and with any luck she would also in due time have Anthony's children.

She was glad that they would go away tomorrow, that they were going to Italy. That would give the scandal a chance to die down before they were back at Locksley again.

She didn't think Anthony had treated her at all well. In fact he had really humiliated her, but she was never going to reproach him for that. Why destroy the future by thoughts and nagging about the past? She sensed that he was still not feeling very well, that he had nothing of her exhilarating happiness. He was only keeping that stiff upper lip he had talked to her about.

But she would make him happy, she was sure of that. To be married to her would make him happy. She was going to start making him happy tonight. They just had to get through this day.

...

Thinking back on it Edith realised that most of this day had been wonderful.

She had been so happy preparing for the wedding in the morning. She had been so happy dressing as a bride, with her sisters around her and her mother telling her that she was beautiful. She had been so happy walking up the aisle with Papa. She had been so happy seeing Anthony waiting there for her. She had been so happy she could only whisper when they had greeted each other as she came up to him, and he had called her his sweet one.

Then, suddenly, unexpectantly, she had been thrown into the darkest despair.

But after she had managed to persuade him to go through with the wedding, she had felt her happiness starting to return. And when they were pronounced husband and wife, and it finally was too late for him to change his mind, her happiness was almost as strong as it had been in the morning.

She just couldn't stop smiling. He was hers now, hers to have and to hold! He really was! From this day forward. Hers to love and to cherish. And to obey - well, they would see about that. He had obeyed _her_ when she asked him not to abandon her, so perhaps it was upon time for her to obey him a bit.

...

"The poor girl wont have much of a wedding night, I'm afraid!" Lady Violet had said to Cora when Edith and Anthony had left Downton for Locksley.

Edith hadn't heard her grandmother's remark, but had she heard it a couple of hours later she might have agreed. Because by that time she was all alone in the bridal chamber, waiting for her new husband to come back to her. Waiting in vain, since more than an hour, getting more and more sad and worried.

...

When they came to Locksley it had all started out very well. The servants were out welcoming their newly married master and his young bride. She knew who they all were already, she had been introduced to them during their engagement. She was glad to see that they all seemed to be genuinely happy for their master and also for their new mistress.

Anthony had even managed to carry her over the threshold. He only had use of one arm, but that arm was strong and she was so much smaller than him. He had put his arm around her, under her buttocks, and lifted her straight up. It was more like you carry a child than a new wife. But still, it was better than nothing and very much more than she had expected.

...

They had started their evening with some tea in the library. They were talking and laughing, and also kissing. But there was still a restraint between them. She could sense that he was feeling awkward and also a little ashamed about what had happened during the day.

She had tried to reassure him, tried to show him that she bore no grudge. That she was happy and thankful that he had gone through with the wedding. That the only thing that mattered to her was that they were now husband and wife. That she was looking forward to their wedding night and their honeymoon, really looking forward to it.

...

When they finally entered the bridal chamber everything was perfect. There were candles and flowers, and the bed looked soft and inviting. Edith was surprised that she didn't feel more nervous than she did. After all, she was going to do things she had never done before. She was going to share her body with Anthony, let him see and touch everything that she normally kept hidden away under her clothes. Let him - well, that part of him - enter into her body. She felt giddy when she thought about that, but she was much more happy than nervous about it all.

After a few wonderful kisses he left her alone, telling her that he was going to have his man help him undress. Edith had offered to help him, but he simply wouldn't hear about it. He didn't want to be a nuisance to her, he said, and he wouldn't believe her when she said she would enjoy doing it.

"I'll just let my man help me into my pyjamas", he had said. "After that I'll be right back to you. You can change into your night-things too, if you like."

She hadn't known what to say. She didn't want him to leave her like that, not on their wedding night, but he insisted.

"I'm not going to abandon you again, my dearest darling. I promise!" he said. Then he gave her a very soft kiss, and left her alone in the bridal chamber, once again repeating that he didn't intend to be a nuisance to her.

So she slipped into the nightdress and nightgown she had ordered for her wedding night. She was feeling sweet and beautiful, and happy and only a little bit nervous. All the awkwardness of the day was gone, she was full of love and happy anticipation.

But he didn't return. She waited for more than an hour, but he still didn't come.

Didn't he want her? Had she pushed him too hard?

...

She finally decided to go and look for him, even if she was sure it wasn't the done thing for a new wife on her wedding night. But she got so worried, what if he had got a heart attack or something? So she went through the dressing room, to his old bedchamber.

There she found him, sleeping on top of the bed.

He was on his back, looking wonderful, wearing a new blue and white striped pyjamas. He had no sling, both his arms were stretched out beside him, it was impossible to see which one was hurt. Or that any one of them was, for that matter.

She smiled at the sight, feeling some of her confidence returning. He had bought himself a new pyjamas, he had wanted to look good for her on their wedding night. He hadn't planned to abandon her there in front of the altar. It had only been some strange spur of the moment.

And he was sleeping on top of the bed. If he had planned not to come to her, surely he would be lying beneath the covers?

In that wonderful striped pyjamas she thought he looked like a gift, wrapped in striped paper. She wondered if she should wake him up and ask him if she could open her present, like an impatient child on Christmas Day. But she decided not to. She had pushed him enough for one day. And even though she was inexperienced and didn't know all the details, she sensed that the whole wedding-night thing would be much better and more enjoyable both for him and for her, if he was less tired. She had better let him sleep until he woke up by himself.

But she so wanted to see what was beneath that nice pyjamas.

Then she noticed something she had never seen before. Something sticking out of her parcel. Something very big and strangely enticing. A part of his body she had never seen before.

His big, naked feet.

...

AN: I have just watched the first season of Cold Feet with Robert Bathurst for the first time, so I just couldn't stop myself from putting my foot in it.

Or rather Sir Anthony's feet!

...

I think you have got the pattern by now, three chapters of Jonathan/Elizabeth fluff, one chapter of could-have-been-worse Edith/Anthony wedding-and-after. It is the proportions I can manage. The Jonathan/Elizabeth chapters I usually write with a big smile on my face, the Edith/Anthony ones are a bit more depressing to write. They will get a little happier now, but not every chapter. Of course there is and will be quite a bit of seriousness in the Jonathan/Elizabeth parts also.

Maybe you think I could have made a story with only the Edith/Anthony parts. But I am actually not at all sure that I could have done that. And I happen to think that the Jonathan/Elizabeth parts tell a lot about Anthony too.

...

Thank you for reading! Thank you so very much for your reviews!

And thank you so much for putting up with my rather peculiar Edith/Anthony-story for so long!


	37. Expectations

The visit to London during her early pregnancy in 1863 made wonders to Lady Elizabeth Strallan's mood. Never again during that pregnancy, nor indeed any time at all during her second and last one, did Sir Jonathan wake up to her sobs.

Louisa had somehow managed to say the right things. Maybe it was what she had said about worrying for one's children even after they were born. Because what was the use? There would be no end to it. Bad things do happen, but worrying about them doesn't prevent them from happening.

So Elizabeth made up her mind to try not to worry. She decided that she should just take care of herself as best she could during her pregnancy. Perhaps she would miscarry, perhaps the child would be stillborn, but worrying wouldn't stop any of that from happening. It would only stop her from being happy about the great miracle of life that she was now a part of.

...

Elizabeth had enjoyed very much to see all her relatives in London. She had talked and joked and laughed with her sisters and brothers, and also played with the children. She had missed them all so very much. Before she married Jonathan, and went to Paris with him on their wedding trip, not a single day had gone by in her life without her seeing at least one member of her big family and usually many more.

Elizabeth learnt a happy fact while she was in London. Her father was going to be transferred from India to a post as a civil servant in London. He and her mother were to return to England in the middle of December, so Celia and Christin had stayed on in London after the season and Elizabeth's wedding. It was considered an unnessecary waste of time and money for the two girls to travel back to India. And also, they had both of them met someone, someone who could be a possible husband.

Elizabeth really wished that she and Jonathan could just move to London to live in their London house, or perhaps trade it for a smaller one. But she knew it was impossible. Too much of their income came from the estate, and it had to be looked after on a regular basis. Jonathan had been away from it too much already this year, with their courtship, marriage and wedding trip.

Sir Jonathan was an easy-going man in most aspects of life. But Lady Elizabeth knew that he felt an obligation, a duty, to take care of Locksley. It had been handed down to him through the generations of Strallans, it was much more than a source of income to him. This was a duty that came with his title.

He felt his responsibility towards his parents and grandparents and he also felt his responsibility towards all the people living on and by the estate, the servants as well as the tenants. If he didn't live up to this responsibility, if he mismanaged the estate in any way, many people would be threatened with poverty or even starvation.

This was the main reason that Jonathan had felt that he had to show Elizabeth Locksley before he proposed to her. She understood that, he was bound to this place, and as his wife she would be bound to it also. He couldn't just sell it and move away. It wasn't because he couldn't do anything else, it was just that he was born to take care of Locksley. When late in life he got a son of his own, little Anthony, he tried to implant that sense of duty towards the estate and its inhabitants in the little boy's mind, in the same way it had been implanted in himself as a young boy. In a loving but very serious way, this was important for the boy to understand, and no laughing matter.

...

Jonathan and Elizabeth were invited to a number of dinner parties during that autumn. And all went well, or at least tolerably well, while the dinner lasted. It was sitting in the saloon afterwards, alone with the other women, that Elizabeth dreaded.

Because during the dinner, if she was feeling strange or sad or awkward or unwanted, she could always look around the table to where Jonathan was sitting. Often she would meet his gaze, he spent more time than was really polite admiring his wife during dinner parties. But even if he wasn't looking at her, she invariably felt better just by seeing him there. When she could see him she knew why she was doing this. Why it was all worth while.

Elizabeth had a lot of unusual opinions that she couldn't keep from expressing. She talked about things women were not supposed to know much about, let alone take an interest in. Things like world politics, or history, or science, or new inventions, or medical innovations. And she couldn't stop herself from correcting people, even those higher in rank than her husband, when she knew that they were wrong. That was not the way to get popular, even for a man, and certainly not for a woman.

She often wished she was better at keeping her mouth shut. To smile and agree, or at least to smile and keep quiet.

Elizabeth didn't manage to make friends among the women of the local gentry in Yorkshire. She didn't feel at all at home among them. They found her very unladylike with her great height and all her talk about uninteresting things that no one else had heard about. She found them very shallow, the only things that seemed to interest them were clothes and gossip. And complaining about their servants. Or husbands.

Elizabeth didn't like gossip, other people's private affairs didn't interest her much, and she often found that what was said was quite a bit malicious. And though she got a lot of praise for her dresses from Paris while they were new, she wasn't all that interested in clothes either. She felt no reason to complain about the servants at Locksley either, they were all polite and hardworking and couldn't help that they were born into smaller circumstances than she was. And her husband was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to her.

She would have liked very much to have a female friend, someone to laugh with and also talk to about serious things. But no one here seemed to be the slightest bit like her, and it wasn't only because they were all at least half a head shorter than she was. Some of the women were rather unfriendly, one of them even asked her how she had managed to make Jonathan marry her as if she found it very strange that he should want someone like her. Elizabeth found it most polite to ignore that question, silently suspecting that the woman had been hoping to marry Jonathan herself at some point of time, though she was now married to someone else.

...

Elizabeth actually felt very much more at home with the tenants' wives at Locksley, but she knew they didn't really feel at home with her. She was their boss, or rather, her husband was their husbands' boss; that was a fact that it was never quite possible for them to ignore. She often had the feeling they were very much relieved when she left their homes. They had more important things to do than the idle aristocratic women, but that was of course part of the reason they didn't want her around. Because they had work to do, and felt that they had to stop their work to be polite to her.

So she felt lonely. She had Jonathan, she had a baby growing inside her. She knew she wouldn't trade the life she had got here for anything, but it didn't stop her from feeling lonely at times.

Jonathan never noticed Elizabeth's loneliness. After all, he saw her chatting away happily enough during dinners, how was he to know she regretted half of what she was saying afterwards. And a lot of the married women were from other parts of the country and had themselves been new to Yorkshire at one time or another, Elizabeth had no reason to feel like an outsider. Besides, when she was with _him_ she was always happy and cheerful, except for the two times she had cried in bed in the morning, and that had nothing to do with feeling lonely.

Jonathan was far more busy than Elizabeth was, but she didn't want to ask him for something more to do. Because in half a year's time their baby would be born, and she wanted to give that baby all the time and all the love she could manage. She would be almost thirty-six when this child was born, she knew that a woman's fertility often decreases when she is getting nearer forty. So she knew that this child was quite possibly the only child that she would ever get.

She had something else to look forward to, something more than the baby. All her relatives were invited to spend the Christmas at Locksley, and they had all accepted to come. So at least she would soon see all of them again. And she would soon see her mother and her father also, there were many months since she had last seen them, and so many important things had happened in her life since then. She felt very happy about that - she would get her mummy, as she had wished, while she was still pregnant.

...

One evening, after they had made love, Elizabeth surprised Jonathan by telling him that this had been their hundredth time.

He looked at her incredulously.

"Really? I didn't know you were counting. I think it would have made me nervous if I had known."

"I am a strange sort. My sister was right when she warned you about that", she said apologetically, somewhat regretting that she had told him this.

"You are. But I wouldn't want you any other way", he said softly, caressing her cheek. "I love you so much!"

"I'm counting my blessings!" she said then with a mischievous smile, instantly comforted. "But I will probably stop now, after a hundred."

"That is a pity. Because if you only let me rest a little while, I think I will be ready to give you another one to count. That is if you want to. Number one hundred and one."

...

Later that evening, after making love a second time, they resumed their conversation.

"A hundred and one times, fancy that!" Jonathan said. "I wonder if we have even been married for a hundred days."

"We haven't", Elizabeth said, without a moment of hesitation. "But we will have soon, on Friday, one week from today."

He laughed. She was wonderful. So funny and so adorable. And so very much _her,_ different from all other people he had ever known.

"Well, I guess I could have counted on you for knowing that!" he said while he drew her close to him and settled into a comfortable position for sleeping.

...

One day Elizabeth's books and things had arrived from India. Her parents had packed them and sent them before they knew that they would return to London themselves.

Jonathan had freed some shelves for her to put her books on. Because when her books were added to the library at Locksley, it got some new sections on entirely new subjects, the most important one being mathematics. Her novels she put in alongside his. There were quite a lot of them that he already had, so they decided to move one copy of these to London.

While sorting through her books she happened to see the book in German that she had found in the bookseller's booth in Paris. _Die Ätiologie, der Begriff und die Prophylaxis des Kindbettfiebers_. She looked up the word _Ätiologie _in her dictionary, the rest of it she understood. _Ätiologie _ment the cause of a disease, according to her dictionary.

This book was really interesting and important, but it was more than 500 pages, she would have to start reading it soon. So there was a _Profylaxis_ for childbed fever - a way to prevent this dreaded disease to hit the new mother. She must find out how to do. Reading a book like this was the good way to worry - to prevent bad things from happening.

And she was very sure that praying was not the best method for that.

She put the book down on a small table by the sofa, together with her German-English dictionary. She would start reading it in the evenings, when she had finished her book-keeping. She knew this could very well be a matter of life or death for her.

...

As Elizabeth's belly grew larger and began to show, it started to get easier for her to talk to the tenants' wives. At least with those of them who were themselves expecting babies, or had ever done that, which was the majority of them. She noticed a genuine interest in their eyes, almost a fondness, when they looked at her protruding belly. And they were only too eager to share the stories of their own pregnancies and deliveries with her. The more dreadful the story was, the more keen the woman was to tell it.

All women are in a way alike when it comes to childbirth. Not even the Lady of the estate can have someone else do it for her. Not even the Queen can have that. She has to go through it herself, like everybody else. The fundamental conditions for the most essential aspect of life, the giving of new life, is the same for all of us.

Elizabeth felt that there was nothing like one big belly each to make two women feel connected. There was nothing that could wipe out the boundaries of class in quite the same way as that could. The fears and the delights were the same, or at least very much alike, for every expectant mother.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you so very much for reviewing! I'm very happy about your kind reviews to last chapter, telling me you still enjoy this somewhat whimsical story, so I will keep going for some time yet.

That book in German really exists, perhaps some of you already know of it. It was printed in 1861, so Elizabeth could very well have found it in a second-hand bookstall in Paris in 1863. There will be a lot more about that book later on, so I leave it like this for now.


	38. Celia and Christin

Celia and Christin didn't return to India after the London season of 1863 and their sister Elizabeth's wedding. One reason was that they had each met a man to marry. Or perhaps it is more correct to say that the two of them had met two men to marry, one for each of the girls. Because the two men where identical twins and one of the things they loved about the Kempell girls was the fact that there were two of them.

There was really no hurry for any of them to marry. Celia was only twenty years old and Christin nineteen. And the two men were only twenty-two.

...

Celia and Christin had met these two men at the last débutante ball they were invited to.

Lord Wicklock, whose name was Peter, and his two hours younger twin-brother James, had spotted the two Kempell girls across the ballroom. It was the first ball this season for them, they had some business to attend to before that, and they also knew that all those balls were generally attended by almost the same people. But these two unknown blond beautiful young girls, probably twins, where as much a happy surprise to them as Lady Elizabeth had been to Sir Jonathan many weeks before.

So they asked a friend who had attended some of the earlier balls if he knew the girls. The man had danced with both of them on earlier balls, and was quite willing to introduce the two men to the two girls.

...

The girls were no twins, as we know, and they were not flattered by the suggestion.

"We are not twins", Celia said with indignation. "I am more than a year older than her!"

"A year and a month", Christin added. "Celia was born in London, I was born in India."

"But you are not the first ones to mistake us for twins", Celia added, feeling she had been a little too harsh to these two very nice and friendly men.

"At least we are sisters", Christin added. "And people think we look very much alike."

"It's not like our older sister", Celia said. "She doesn't look very much like us, and she is almost a head taller."

"But she is also blond", Christin added. "We all are. All our brothers also."

Peter and James found it very difficult to get a word in when these two girls started talking. In some ways the two girls seemed much more like twins than themselves, in spite of the fact that _they_ were really identical twins.

...

Peter was the oldest of the two, or rather, he was the one who had been lucky enough to get born first. Because they were of course strictly speaking of the same age, conceived at the same time, coming from the same human egg and the same human sperm. But the order they were born made a great difference in a case like theirs, when there was a title and an estate involved. But Peter didn't want to live without his twin brother. So they shared the estate - but not the title - that he had inherited when he was only twenty. Now when they were twenty-two they had started to think about marriage. They were looking for two girls who were preferably twins themselves, so they would accept - or better still enjoy - these somewhat unusual living arrangements.

Celia and Christin seemed a good choice for them, the girls were beautiful and sweet, and very fond of each other. It wasn't love at first sight, not for any one of them, but the girls thought the men seemed nice enough, and also quite good-looking with their dark colours. And the men found the girls beautiful and sweet-tempered and more twin-like than any real twins.

The only way to split up the girls to be able to talk to them one by one was to ask them to dance. Peter asked Celia to dance, James asked Christin. Perhaps it was at that point that it was decided which one of the young men would marry which one of the girls, because that was the way they would end up.

That was the way they would stand in front of the altar, during that wonderful double-wedding eight months later. Where the girls' father, who had missed the chance of leading his eldest daughter up the aisle during her wedding, was now allowed the pleasure of accompanying his other two daughters in that way, both at the same time, one of them at each arm.

...

But it wasn't all smooth sailing from that first dance to the wedding. Because the two men did a thing that the two girls had big difficulties in forgiving.

It started with a discussion between Peter and James about a month after they had started courting the two girls. Peter was to pick up Celia at Henrik Kempell's house at three the next day, James was picking up Christin at four.

Peter wondered if it would really make any differense to the girls which of the men picked them up. He was fairly certain that the girls wouldn't be able to tell the two of them apart if they didn't see them at the same time. But James was almost sure that Christin would recognize him.

So they decided to make a test. James should pick up Celia in Peter's place, then an hour later Peter should pick up Christin. They would take the girls to the park, and switch back, preferably without the girls noticing anything. Or at least that was the plan.

The last thing Peter said to James was: "Don't kiss Celia! She belongs to me!"

"And you keep your hands off Christin! Or I will..." James said. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea after all."

But they decided to go through with it anyway. Somehow they were feeling uneasy by the thought that they might be exchangeable for the girls they were falling more and more in love with.

...

So a quarter of an hour later James knocked on Henrik Kempell's door, and Pearson opened it. James asked if Celia was in, and Pearson assumed that he was Peter.

Celia met him with a big smile on her face. But when she came closer her smile faded away. She suddenly stopped, staring at James, with fear written all over her face.

"Where is Peter? And why are you here? Has something happened to him?"

James didn't really know what to say, he hadn't expected Celia to be able to tell them apart, since Peter hadn't thought she could.

"Well...we thought ... maybe ... that you wouldn't notice the difference ... so we decided to ... change...I mean ..." he stuttered, knowing that this didn't sound good at all, even worse than it really was.

"So you don't love Christin?" Celia shouted. "You don't care a bit if you are with her or with me? You could as well have any one of us? Or maybe share us? Take your turn? Bad luck that I recognized you then! And please tell Peter that I never want to see him again. Ever!"

He tried to explain that it was only a test, that they were afraid that the girls couldn't tell them apart, that they had no intention and no wish to change girls. But Celia was already rushing up the stairs to Christin's bedroom to tell her what the men had been up to and have a good cry on the bed.

Christin thought she had the right to break up with her own suitor herself, so she went down to the hallway where James was still standing, rather sheepishly, wondering what to do next. She gave him a good scolding, telling him that if he couldn't distinguish between her and Celia, and didn't care which one he was with, there was not much point in the two of them continuing to see each other. James found it just as difficult to get a word in talking to an angry Christin as it had been talking to the two girls together earlier on.

At last he managed to say, half shouting: "Please forgive me!"

That silenced Christin. She looked at him, his lovely brown eyes were full of remorse. Then he continued: "I love you, Christin! You and only you."

That made her turn around, and rush up the stairs.

"You are everything to me!" he shouted to her vanishing back.

But Christin didn't stop. She went to her sister, who was already crying on the bed. Christin started crying herself, not able to give up James and not able to forgive what he had done.

...

So James left the house and went looking for his brother to tell him what a mess he had made of it all. Peter was actually glad, because Celia had know directly that James wasn't him. He tried to disregard the fact that Celia had also told James that she never wanted to see Peter again.

They just couldn't give the girls up, not for this, a stupid test. A test that the girls had passed with flying colours at that.

They decided to go back to Henrik Kempell's place together, to ask for the girls' forgiveness.

...

In the meantime the two girls had stopped sobbing and gone to their elder brother to tell him what their two suitors had done.

"So, this is the end? You are finished with them?" Henrik asked softly.

The two girls looked at each other in astonishment. Was it the end? Was that what they wanted?

James had told Christin she was everything to him, and though she of course knew that he exaggerated, she did love to hear him say those words. She loved James, she wanted him, but she was very upset and sad about what he and his brother had done.

Celia hadn't even had the chance to tell Peter in person that it was over. She knew she loved him. She had been so scared when she thought that James was there to tell her something bad had happened to Peter. She longed to look into Peter's beautiful brown eyes. Could she have looked into James' eyes with the same feeling? Of course not! They were not the same. Partly because Peter's eyes looked at _her_ in a very different way from what James' eyes did. There was friendliness in James' eyes, but there was no love. That was the main thing that had given him away at once.

So they told Henrik to give the two younger men a good telling-off, after which the girls would agree to see them again. At least if Henrik found them remorseful enough.

...

When the twins returned to Henry Kempell's house, they were told that the two girls refused to see them. Instead Pearson told them that Henrik was very eager to have a word with them in the library. The two young men looked at each other, feeling somewhat ashamed, and not particularly eager to see their girls' elder brother. But they couldn't very well refuse, not if they wanted to have anything more to do with the two girls.

Henrik looked up at them when they entered the library. He stood to greet them, but he didn't smile, only looked at them with a severe air, asking them to sit down.

Henrik thought briefly about how Sir Jonathan Strallan had visited him in search for Elizabeth, many months ago. He remembered how he had toyed with the idea of amusing himself by sending Jonathan away without letting on that Elizabeth was in the next room. Henrik felt a little ashamed of that now, Jonathan was a kind man and had done nothing to deserve such treatment.

But these men had. Their only excuse was that they were very young. But they did look very contrite also.

"Well, why did you play such a bad trick on my sisters?" he asked them trying to look more severe than he felt.

The two men started on a lengthy explanation of how very sorry they were, and that Peter really loved Celia and James loved Christin and they had no intention whatsoever of switching and it had only been a test because they had been afraid it didn't matter to the girls which one they were with, but they were so very sorry about it all and there was no intention on their part to mislead the girls, and they could only hope the girls would agree to see them again so they could beg them for forgiveness.

The two men really were very much alike. Henrik was surprised that Celia had been able to tell them apart so effortlessly. He was sure he would never be able to do that himself.

Half a year ago, Henrik had three unmarried sisters. By now one of them was married and expecting a baby, Louisa had informed him of that happy fact. The other two would be married before long, judging both from how upset they themselves had been about these two men's behaviour and from how remorseful the two men appeared to be.

Henrik decided to let the two younger men stew a little longer. After all they had tried to play a rather nasty trick on his young sisters. That one of them was an Earl was no excuse, a title and a fortune were not the most important aspects of a happy marriage.

"I would be very surprised if any of my sisters will ever want to see the two of you again", Henrik said with another severe look. He looked straight into their eyes without a hint of a smile, first at one of them and then at the other.

But actually, as usual, Henrik was quite a bit amused. He found other men's broken hearts and pangs of love rather entertaining now, when he himself was so certain of his love for Louisa and hers for him.

...

AN: This chapter is the furthest away from Edith/Anthony I will ever get in this story. I promise! Anthony's aunties!

I'm not a twin, but of course I know and have known some in my life. This rather wicked idea of going to your twin-sibling's date I have got, at different times, both from a male and a female pair of identical twins. Both pairs claimed that they had really done that at one time or another in their teens. Maybe Swedish twins are more badly behaved than other twins.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

I don't know when I will be able to published the next chapter. I have very little time for fanfiction right now.


	39. Preparations

An evening in the middle of November 1863 Lady Elizabeth Strallan put away the estate ledgers after filling in the latest numbers. Her husband was busy writing letters on the other side of the desk. She throw a quick glance at him, wondering if she should ask him for a kiss, but deciding against it, since he seemed to be working with such great concentration. Instead she sat down on the sofa and picked up her book on puerperal fever.

_Die Aetiologie, der Begriff und die Prophylaxis des Kindbettfiebers_, was the name of the book. _The Cause, Concept and Prophylaxis of Childbed Fever._ It was written by a man called Ignaz Philipp Semmelweis. It said on the front cover that the author was among other things a doctor of medicine and surgery and a professor of practical and theoretical _Geburtshilfe_ - that meant obstetrics - at the Hungarian Royal University of Pest. _  
_

It was high time to start reading this, Elizabeth thought. She had been married for more than three months by now, and had probably been with child for almost the same amount of time. Her belly had started to be noticeably bigger by now, at least to herself. She liked to put her hand on it, protectively, although she couldn't feel the baby moving in there yet. She felt much calmer than she had done earlier on. The main feeling she had about her pregnancy now was one of happy anticipation.

She had to finish this book well before she was going to give birth, she thought. And that was expected to happen one of the first weeks of May. Reading this book was a necessary preparation, she couldn't look at it in any other way.

Though very few women would probably think reading thick volumes about obstetrics in foreign languages was the best way to prepare for giving birth. Many of them would most likely prefer to knit baby socks.

...

Elizabeth's German was fairly good, but she had mostly read three things: novels, poetry and mathematics. This book wasn't very much like any one of these. Neither Goethe nor Gauss had very much to say about ailments in the female reproductive organs.

Not anything at all, in fact, at least as far as she knew.

...

There were more than five hundred pages in the book. Elizabeth leafed through it, many pages were full of tables with figures. That was good, it would make it faster and easier to read, there wouldn't be so much German text to get through. It would be more interesting also, Elizabeth was obsessed by figures.

Elizabeth wondered if she should start her reading with the prophylaxis chapter, which was somewhere in the middle of the book. But she decided against it, there were still five months until her baby would be born, if she started reading from the beginning of the book she only had to read some four or five pages a day to get through the whole of it in time. It was better to get the complete picture.

So she started with the preface. The author wrote that the book would be about his time as an assistant physician at the first maternity clinic in Vienna during the late eighteen-forties and the discoveries that he had made there.

Elizabeth had to look up words in almost every sentence. It was a struggle, and difficult to understand what she was reading, when she had to interrupt it constantly to look in the dictionary. But she persevered and after an hour or so she had got through the preface and started on the first chapter.**  
**

Then she noticed that Jonathan had stopped writing and sat looking at her carefully with a curious air.

"What is it that you are reading?" he asked softly, when she looked up at him and smiled. "Why do you have to look up so many words in the dictionary? I thought your German was very good."

"It is one of the books I found in Paris. It is about childbed fever, how to prevent it."

A shadow passed over his face. He shook his head, shuddering.

"Childbed fever! Well, we don't want any of that!" he said. "If there is a method to prevent it, you have to find out how to do. I'm glad you found that book. And I'm glad I have such an intelligent wife. Please keep reading!"

He looked down and continued his writing again, so she decided to read another page or two before trying to get him to make love to her. Being praised by him always made her long for that special closeness to him.

...

The next evening Jonathan was telling Elizabeth about a new farming implement that he wanted to buy and test out. He got quite carried away about it. He was gesturing with his hands, moving them about, trying to describe all the benefits of it in a convincing way.

Elizabeth looked at his hands. They were big, sinewy, male hands. She suddenly found them oddly arousing. The thought of what these hands had done to her last night... And what they would probably - hopefully - do tonight...

She had stopped hearing what he was talking about, she just kept staring at his hands as if they were something she had never seen before. She was spellbound. Perhaps she _hadn't_ really seen them in that way earlier. She had never looked at them with quite so much desire before.

"Elizabeth? What are you thinking about?" Jonathan sounded a bit irritated.

"Oh, nothing." She shook her head to clear it, then she looked up from his hands to his face. As if that would help her concentrate!

"I don't think you are listening to me", he said, sounding slightly hurt. "We have only been married for a few months and you have already lost interest in me."

She really hadn't listened to him, he was right there, but she hadn't lost interest in him. So she decided she had better confess.

She looked into his eyes again, giving him an embarrassed little smile.

"Actually, I was thinking about you. When I looked at your hands, I thought about what they do to me. And...well...that made me forget all about what you were talking about."

He smiled at that, at least she was straightforward. Very straightforward. Some men would perhaps had found it embarrassing to have their wives talking like that, but he only felt happy about it.

"You only love me for my body", he complained with a smile. "You don't give a farthing about my mind."

"Yes, you are right!" she smiled happily at him. "That's exactly how it is!"

He looked quite hurt, sometimes he didn't understand that she was joking.

...

That evening she didn't read in her book. She knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate after thinking of his hands in that way. And he longed for her full attention and knew that he would have that making love.

He had told her once again about that new farm implement - while she looked down and just listened, to prevent herself from thinking about other things. They decided that it was probably a good idea to test it, though Elizabeth hadn't understood half of what it was all about. But she was in no mood to say no to him right now.

Then, at last, she was rewarded with his lips on her lips and his enchanting hands on her body.

"Don't worry!" she whispered against his mouth. "I do love your body, but it is only because your mind lives in it!"**  
**

...

The next evening she got the book and the dictionary out again. She started re-reading the book from the first page, to get the meaning of the text, now that she had the meaning of all the individual words. It was a chilling tale about all the women with newborn babies that had met their deaths at that maternity hospital.

The tables were also horrid reading. Perhaps this was not a very suitable thing to read for a pregnant woman. One table showed how many women had died compared to how many children had been born during various years in the two maternity clinics in Vienna. For example in 1846, which was one of the worst years, a little more than four thousand children were born in the first clinic. More than four hundred and fifty of the new mothers had died that same year - more than one out of ten! And most of them had died of childbed fever.

It couldn't be as bad as that in England, of course not, but Elizabeth knew that this disease was a real threat to women's lives in her own country as well.

The author wrote about how he had entered into obstetrics from a wish to save human lives. How there had been cases in that Vienna maternity ward, maybe ten to fifteen a year, where the doctor had saved the life of mother and child during difficult deliveries where the child was in the wrong position.

But that the cases where the new mothers in that ward had died from childbed fever after delivery were many times as numerous. **  
**

**...**

Elizabeth read the book with more and more fascination and horror.

As she continued reading it through the weeks, Elizabeth found that there were less and less words she had to look up in the dictionary. She had learnt much of the necessary vocabulary by then and that made the reading faster. At times she forgot that the book was in German, she read it almost as if it had been an English book.

She was sure now that she would be able to finish it before she was due to give birth. And that it contained at least a few things that could be useful for herself to know.

...

That November had been unusually grey and rainy, even for November. The rain was falling almost every day, and the roads and fields around Locksley got full of mud. The bleak November sky outside the windows made their library with its open fire feel even cozier than usual.

They went to a couple of dinner parties and also a ball that month, but most of the evenings they stayed at home. At times one or two neighbours or friends dropped by for a short visit and a cup of tea during the day, but usually it was just the two of them, working or reading together in the library, enjoying each others company, getting used to living together as husband and wife.

Suddenly the long stretch of rainy days was interrupted by a Wednesday that was both sunny and quite warm for November. There had been so many rainy days this month, so they decided to take a long walk together, letting their estate business wait until evening. They were strolling around the orchards and the lands of Locksley, talking and laughing, smiling and kissing.

They were happy about being together in the mild November sun. Happy about being alive and being in love. Being two and getting ready to become three.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you very much for reviewing!

Elizabeth and Jonathan are the fruits of my imagination, but the book and its contents are real.


	40. Interlude: Mrs Cheetwood, 1920

Mrs Emilia Cheetwood was on her way back to London on the evening train after attending the wedding between her brother Sir Anthony Strallan, and the Earl of Grantham's second daughter Lady Edith Crawley. She wondered briefly how her brother and his new wife were doing on their wedding night, hoping it was all fine for them after that very dramatic wedding.

She decided that it was probably alright. She knew they loved each other, and that was the single most important thing for a happy marriage. All the rest followed from that.

To love each other, that was what her parents had done. It had been a blessing to grow up in the warmth of their love. Their love for each other, but still more important, their love for their children.

And now, perhaps, there would at long last be a new happy family living at Locksley, new children growing up there. She certainly hoped so, she wanted Anthony to get some happiness after all the terrible things he had been through in his life.

...

Of all the people present at Anthony's and Edith's wedding, Emilia was the only one who had known Anthony all his life. She was the only one who had held baby Anthony in her arms.

They had all been waiting in church earlier on that wedding day. The bride had been late in arriving, and Emilia had seen that her little brother was getting more and more nervous. But when Edith arrived, looking happy and beautiful, Emilia was sure that the sight of his bride would make Anthony less nervous. But Emilia had been wrong.

Emilia had been as shocked as everyone else when Anthony interrupted the ceremony. What did he think he was doing? Emilia thought about going up to her little brother and tell him to calm down. And perhaps, if the reverend hadn't ushered the bride and groom away to the vestry, she would have done just that.

But she had been sure that Edith would do a better job at it than she would. And she had been right, hadn't she?

...

A lot of happy memories went through Emilia's head there on the train as she thought back on her childhood and youth at Locksley.

She remembered how her father had taught her how to dance in the ballroom at Locksley, her mother playing for them on the piano-forte. When Emilia was little, her father just picked her up and waltzed around with her on his arm, her feet far above the floor. Later, he showed her the steps, and at first let her dance standing on his feet, one foot on each of his. She remembered little Anthony crawling around them in that gigantic ballroom. The dancing-lessons sometimes ended with all four of them lying in a laughing heap on the floor.

But she had learned how to dance, and it had made her picky when it came to dance-partners. Because her father was probably one of the best dancers in the country. Her mother used to tease him about going to débutante balls until he was forty-six.

None of the young men Emilia danced with in her youth could compare to her father as a dancer. But when she met Charles Cheetwood she discovered that it didn't really matter. Because dancing with him, being hold in his arms, was something entirely different from dancing with her father. It didn't matter that Charles was out of step at times, or even managed to trip on Emilia's toes. Because dancing with Charles was still like dancing on clouds.

The ballroom in Locksley didn't exist any longer. Anthony had it taken down after the death of their father, in some strange act of grief. After all, it was their father's ballroom, he had said, built for him by his parents. And nobody danced like him. Anthony himself never did, although he had tried to learn.

...

Her mother, Elizabeth, had told Emilia about how little babies were made when she was expecting Anthony and Emilia was ten years old. Emilia had thought that the grownups were truly wonderful when she heard that. Wonderful for making such a huge sacrifice, doing something so strange and distasteful, just to have children. When she said that to her mother, Mummy only smiled, and seemed a little embarrassed. "Well", she said, "most grownups think it is _nice_ to do those things, to be so near the person they love. I think you will understand that when you are older."

Emilia smiled at the memory. And her mummy had been right, of course she had. Emilia had found great pleasure herself in making love, once she was married to Charles. By then, of course, she had also found out that it was not only meant for making babies.

Because at the time, when her mother told her about this, Emilia had thought that her parents had been forced to do this only twice, once to get her and once to get Anthony. She had felt so sorry for the grownups, who had to do such strange things just in order to get a baby.

...

Maybe her and Anthony's childhood had been so happy because they needed it, Emilia thought. Because so many bad things would happen to them later on.

The first bad thing was the early death of their mother, and then the death of their father less than a year after that.

Emilia and Anthony had both been devastated about losing their parents. But Emilia had Charles and also their children to comfort her. The blow was probably harder on Anthony who was only twenty, and had to live there at Locksley alone. The big house, that was so full of happy memories, had suddenly become quiet and empty without the sound of their parents' laughter.

...

A year after their father's death Anthony had married Maud.

That was in 1895, twenty-five years ago, the year after Edith was born.

Maud and Emilia were friends, Maud was the widow of Dr Herbert Watson, who had been an older colleague of Emilia's husband Charles at the hospital in York. Maud was just a year older than Emilia, but Herbert had been very much older than that.

Anthony and Maud had met at a dinner party at Charles' and Emilia's home in York, and it had been obvious right from the beginning that they were attracted to each other.

Maud had told Emilia later that she had fallen in love with Anthony at first sight. She had been enchanted by Anthony's lovely blue eyes that seemed to be able to see right through her, and his boyish smile that lit up his whole face.

But she had tried to forget about him. He was more than ten years younger than her, just a young boy. And he was also her dear friend Emilia's little brother. But she kept seeing his face whenever she closed her eyes.

And this was the first time she had been able to forget about Herbert.

Anthony had been smitten in a similar way by the dark-eyed beauty with her raven black hair. He went all the way to York, time and time again, in his carriage. To see his sister, he had said, but really it had all been for the odd chance of meeting Maud again.

Then he started to send notes to Maud, begging her to see him. It only took a couple of weeks before she relented, giving up all resolutions of staying away from him.

A month later Maud told Emilia that she was seeing Anthony and a couple of months after that, when Anthony was twenty-one, they had married in York.

The marriage to Maud had been a good thing for Anthony. The two of them had been so happy together, always having difficulties keeping their hands off each other. They were touching each other's hands or backs or hair or cheeks whenever they thought no one was watching.

The beginning of the great tragedy of this marriage came only a year later, when Maud had her first miscarriage. There would be many more during the years, throwing the poor couple between joy and desperation. Maud had a miscarriage and sometimes two almost every year during the ten years they were married.

Until the final blow came.

...

Emilia was alone on the train and she lived alone in London, though she wasn't alone in life. But none of her two grown up daughters had been able to attend their uncle's wedding at such short notice. Emma was having her third child in a few days and wasn't allowed to travel from London. Maria was in Paris, where her husband had a post at the British Embassy.

But Emilia had lost people during the war, people that were very close to her. Some of the most important people in her life.

No - she wouldn't think about that right now!

...

Maud had died just after giving birth to a little boy. The boy's first cry and his mother's last breath came almost simultaneously. Maud had died with a faint smile on her lips, hearing her child's first cry. But the little son she had given birth to was very weak, and had died himself a couple of hours later.

After that Anthony had told Emilia that he would never marry again. There was no one like Maud, there could never be. He would never be able to love another woman like he had loved Maud. And this experience was so dreadful, he had felt so helpless and so guilty, seeing his wife and son passing away like that.

Anthony was still very young, but for many years it seemed that he would keep to that resolution. But then something happened, just a year or so before the war. Anthony met Lady Edith Crawley.

Emilia didn't know for sure what had happened between the two of them before the war. Only that Anthony had been talking about proposing to the girl, but then nothing more had happened. Perhaps it was the war that had made him change his mind, perhaps he had felt that he couldn't tie a young girl to him, when he couldn't be sure of surviving.

...

Emilia didn't know Edith very well, they had only met a few times over the years and only once during Edith's engagement to Anthony. Emilia had come down from London for a couple of days, just to meet her brother's future wife, and Anthony had held a small dinner party at Locksley. Emilia had liked Edith very much. It was also obvious to her that the young girl was very much in love with Anthony.

Emilia knew Cora, Edith's mother, much better than she knew Edith herself. Or she had known Cora, rather. She had known her when Emilia and her husband Charles Cheetwood still lived in Ripon, and Cora hadn't yet become the Countess of Grantham. The contact had more or less ceased when Emilia and her family moved to York half a year later and after that to London.

Emilia had first met Cora on a meeting to organise some sort of charity event, and taken an immediate liking to her. Cora was brought there by her mother-in-law, the Countess of Grantham, a rather intimidating middle aged lady with a very sharp tongue, who had been in charge of Downton Abbey for quite some years by then. Cora had seemed shy and unhappy, trying to be like everyone else, but giving away her American origin every time she opened her mouth.

It was the fact that Cora didn't seem to fit in that had endeared her to Emilia. Because Emilia knew that it wasn't easy to deal with the arrogance of the local aristocracy. Being American was not considered worth much among them, no matter how much money you had brought to your husband's family. Money was vulgar, something you shouldn't talk about.

So Emilia had invited Cora for tea, and Cora had accepted. Cora had been happy to get away from Downton and her mother-in-law for an afternoon, no doubt. It had been a very pleasant afternoon, followed by many more. Cora was not so shy on her own, and Emilia learned a lot of things she didn't know about America and the way of life there.

The last time the two of them had met before today, Emilia had given Cora the recipe for Apple Charlotte. The two of them hadn't seen each other for many years when they bumped into each other in Ripon, while Emilia was on a short visit to her brother at Locksley. They had gone for a cup of tea together and Cora had told Emilia that she had invited Anthony to a dinner-party. Emilia had already heard this from Anthony, who was both intrigued and worked up about it.

Cora had asked Emilia what kind of food Anthony liked. What first came to Emilia's mind was the Apple Charlotte that had been Anthony's favourite dessert as a boy. She knew he still liked it, she used to let her cook make it when Anthony was visiting her. So she told Cora the Locksley recipe for that, hoping that it would at least make Anthony feel a little at home during this dinner which seemed to worry him so much.

Anthony had told Emilia afterwards about the salty Raspberry Meringue, so there obviously hadn't been any Apple Charlotte after all. Maybe Cora had found it a bit too simple a dessert for a Downton dinner-party.

...

And then the war came...

This was by far the worst part of Emilia's life. And also of Anthony's.

Anthony had come back from the war injured. Both his body and his soul were seriously damaged. But Emilia's son George, who was only twenty-two when the war broke out, hadn't come back at all.

Losing her son was a terrible blow. The worst thing that had ever happened to her, the worst thing that ever would happen to her. Probably the worst thing that could ever happen to a human being. Even worse than losing her husband, which had also been a hard blow. That had also happened during the war. She often wondered if that was perhaps also caused by losing their son. Charles had died of a heart attack, but he hadn't taken care of his health at all after the death of his son.

When Anthony came back from the war he was a broken man. Before the war he was very much like their boisterous father in his behavior, full of self-confidence, kind and friendly and interested in many things. But when he came back, he was tired and hollow-eyed and full of self-pity. It was like he felt he had no right to be alive.

Emilia had found him in his library, that wonderful library at Locksley that was so full of happy memories from their childhood. But Anthony wasn't happy, he hardly dared to look into his sister's eyes.

"I'm so sorry about George", he said in a barely audible voice, his eyes fixed on the carpet in front of him. "I wish it had been me."

For some reason that made Emilia really angry.

"There was nothing you could do about George being killed, you were not there! It had nothing to do with you! And I am so very happy that _you_ are alive! I have lost my son and I have lost my husband, but at least I didn't lose my little brother as well."

...

She kept seeing Anthony, she went there from London once or twice every month for the next year. Sometimes one or the other of her married daughters would accompany her, bringing their little children with them. Seeing the little ones playing at the lawn outside Locksley seemed to cheer Anthony up a bit.

He still declined all invitations from his old friends and neighbours, but at least he seemed a little more resigned to his injury and the fact that he had survived the war when so many younger men had died. But he never left Locksley, never saw anyone except his staff and his tenants.

On one of Emilia's visits, more than a year after Anthony had returned home, there had been an invitation to tea from Lady Grantham on Anthony's table. Emilia had persuaded Anthony to accept the invitation, what was the harm in having a cup of tea with an old lady, who was obviously feeling a bit lonely?

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Please review!


	41. Disillusion

"I love that way you look at me", Lady Elizabeth cooed at her husband one morning late in November. "You make me feel so important."

They were walking together in the park outside Locksley. It was one of the very few days that month when it didn't rain. Jonathan's eyes were fixed on Elizabeth with a very soft expression of love.

"You are important! And I so enjoy looking at you, you are so beautiful! More than ever like this, I think, expecting a little one."

"And it's so sweet that you are still a little shy of me, even though you have seen and touched me where no one else has been near", she smiled. "Even though you have done that so many times by now."

"I am not shy of you. I honestly don't think I am", he said, with a small hint of irritation.

"I think you are!" she said laughingly. "At least a little!"

...

She would think back on that teasing conversation later. She would remember it as her last morsel of real happiness. When things started falling to pieces all around her, when she discovered his deceit, she would think about how naïve she had been at the time, how she had seen everything in a rosy-red shimmer. How she had seen it like that for many, many months, feeling constantly embraced by his love.

She would think about how wrong she had been, all that time. How wrong and how very, very happy.

...

They had made love to each other that morning, before they went out for the walk. They had been warm and sweaty and more playful than serious. There was no way for any of them to know that this would be the last time they made love for many days to come, even for weeks.

After their walk they went about their business just like any normal day.

He met some of the tenants, discussing some new ideas of farming. She started to look through all the old baby-things in the house, deciding what had to be bought new. Most of the clothes, of course, the last baby to be dressed in them was Jonathan, more than forty-five years ago. He must have been the most wonderful little baby! Elizabeth smiled at the thought of a little chubby baby boy with blond hair and Jonathan's wonderful smile, dressed in those sweet but somewhat ragged baby clothes. Perhaps someone like that was growing in her belly right now. She put her hand on her belly, still not feeling any movement, but her smile got even broader than before.

She wondered if she should start getting things for the baby now, but decided that she should wait at least a couple of months more. But she could make a list now, she knew fairly well what was needed since she had so many younger siblings.

Later they had lunch together, just the two of them, a simple meal without formality. Talking and laughing, discussing what their day had been like so far.

...

After luncheon Elizabeth felt a little tired, so she sat down with a book on the sofa in the little saloon. Not the book about childbed fever, she couldn't take all that tragedy more than once a day, at the most, so she restricted her reading of it to the evenings.

No, this was a novel that she had found among Jonathan's books. It was called _The Woman in White _and written by Wilkie Collins. It was a couple of years old, she had heard about it before and wanted to read it but never got around to order it to India. Which was as well, since Jonathan had it.

When she read the first few pages she found it very funny. There was a lovely description of an Italian, who was trying to be more English than the English themselves. The author made fun of the poor Italian, but it was written in a good-natured and loving way. Elizabeth knew that the book was a mystery novel. If she remembered rightly from the newspaper reviews it was about a man who had his wife put into an asylum, although she wasn't mentally ill. So Elizabeth was happily surprised that the book was so full of humour as well.

After a while her back started aching, so she lay down on the sofa with a cushion under her head. She didn't plan to fall asleep, but she did.

She had a terrible dream, dreaming about Jonathan trying to persuade her to enter into an asylum. It was the same nice, friendly Jonathan as in real life, which made the dream all the more real and scaring. He was very persistent, telling her that it was all for her own good, that she must have noticed herself that her mental health was rapidly deteriorating. She was begging him to let her stay with him at Locksley, she was going to be so good, she would never again answer back to anything he said.

Elizabeth was awaken rather abruptly from her sleep by a woman's giggle. She was still in her dream, it took her some time to understand where she was. There was no one but herself in the room, but now she could hear her husband's voice also, though she couldn't hear what he was saying. She had obviously left the door ajar between the parlour and the little saloon, and a guest had arrived while Elizabeth was sleeping.

She stumbled up from the sofa, collecting her rumpled skirt. Then she went over to the door and pushed it open to greet their guest.

She stopped short when she saw what was going on in the parlour. Her husband and Lady Georgina Jarvis were sitting very close together on the sofa, facing each other. Jonathan was looking straight into the woman's eyes, and she looked back at him. They both had an expression of love on their faces.

"Oh, no, she doesn't suspect a thing!" she heard her husband say with a smile. "She is such a trusting little thing!"

Elizabeth was still not entirely awake, and getting up so quickly from the sofa had made her dizzy, so she didn't really understand what they were saying. But surely Jonathan must be talking about her?

"That is one of the reasons I married her", he continued.

So it was about her then! Elizabeth stood there, head spinning, taking in the scene. How they were talking so tenderly to each other... How Jonathan looked at Georgina with eyes that were so warm and loving... How they only had eyes for each other... How they seemed to be so much in love...

And how they hadn't even noticed that Elizabeth was present.

She silently closed the door again, panic and fear struggling in her mind. Her heart was beating violently. She stumbled back to the sofa and sat down in a hurry to avoid fainting.

Her head was whirling around, her brain was in a muddle. But it was still obvious to her what was happening. They were talking about her, about her not suspecting a thing. So Lady Georgina Jarvis was Jonathan's mistress, and had probably been that long before he married Elizabeth.

He had chosen to marry Elizabeth so he could carry on his illicit affair without complications. He had married her because she was such a 'trusting little thing'. She had heard him say that himself.

...

She asked herself why she hadn't seen the signs much earlier. They had been there from the very beginning, she now realised.

Elizabeth had first met Georgina and John Jarvis at her and Jonathan's wedding. They were Johnathan's neighbours from Yorkshire, Jonathan had said to Elizabeth that he had known them both since his childhood, and that the woman was a special friend of his.

A special friend - he hadn't even tried to hide it. But it hadn't sounded so sinister then...

Thinking back on all the occasions she had seen Jonathan and Georgina together, she realised that they had always seemed very close. But since Elizabeth had been so sure of Jonathan's love, she had never seen anything suspicious in their behaviour. Not until now.

Elizabeth had seen Jonathan and Georgina dancing together on that ball they had gone to earlier that month. She had looked at them, and they had really danced like a couple, her following his every step in a way that bordered on perfection. It was obvious that Georgina was a much better dancer than Elizabeth was, and also much more used to dance with Jonathan.

But Elizabeth hadn't been jealous, not the slightest bit. Not like she was when she saw him dancing with all the young beauties on that débutante ball, just after she had met him for the first time. This time she had been proud instead. She had thought: just look at that man, he is the best dancer in England, he is the most handsome man in the world. And he loves _me_ and belongs to _me_!

After the dance Elizabeth had even complimented Georgina on her dancing skill. And Jonathan had danced more with Elizabeth than with anyone else during that evening, as he usually did. No, she hadn't been jealous at all. She _was_ a trusting little thing.

But all that had changed now. Surely Jonathan enjoyed dancing with Georgina much more than he enjoyed dancing with Elizabeth. Surely he enjoyed making love to Georgina much more than he enjoyed making love to Elizabeth.

Georgina and Jonathan had known each other all their lives, so why hadn't they married each other long ago? The only explanation Elizabeth could think of was that the marriage between Georgina and John Jarvis had been arranged by their parents. That must be the reason that Jonathan hadn't married before. The woman he loved was already married to someone else.

...

Elizabeth was not going to cry. She was not going to show him that she was hurt. She knew what the marriage laws were like, she knew she had no chance.

After the Matrimonial Causes Act was passed in parliament 1857, divorce was at least a possibility. A man could divorce his wife if she was unfaithful to him. But for a woman, it wasn't enough that her husband was unfaithful, she also had to prove cruelty or desertion. For a husband it was considered no big deal just to be sleeping with someone else, it was something the wife had to accept.

And, of course, even if Elizabeth had been able to prove that Jonathan had been unfaithful to her, she would never be able to prove that he was cruel. He was just about the kindest person she had ever known.

The marriage rules in general had been discussed in the British newspapers when that divorce law was passed. In the eyes of the law, a married woman was not a person in her own right, she belonged to her husband. He could decide everything in her life, he was the one in charge of her.**  
**

Elizabeth had known about these rules and they had almost made her promise herself never to marry. She had been so afraid of being at the mercy of a man. But any such resolutions had evaporated when she met Jonathan. Because he was so kind and friendly, she just couldn't see him as a threat. And she was so very much in love with him.

But now she was stuck in this marriage to a man who loved someone else. There was nothing she could do about it, just keep smiling! Stiff upper lip!

He had fooled her completely. And for what? Most likely he had seen her across that ball-room floor, and decided that she was an easy prey. Well, she was, wasn't she? He had probably married her to get an heir, and to be able to carry on his affair with Georgina Jarvis without any rumours.

The child in Elizabeth's belly would also belong to it's father. The father was always the custodian of his children, just like he was that of his wife. If they were divorced, Elizabeth would probably not even be allowed to see the child after it was born. She knew the new divorce courts very seldom gave the woman the custody of any children, even if they were little babies.

No, she had to stay the dutiful wife. But it was so much against her nature. How could she be happy hearing him whispering about how much he loved her, when she knew he meant nothing of what he said?

She had never felt more miserable in her life, but she just couldn't allow herself to cry.

...

For the first time since her thirty-fifth birthday Elizabeth wasn't wearing the little golden heart Jonathan had given to her. She struggled with herself, she was so fond of it, and so used to wearing it. She always had it on, sometimes together with other necklaces, but at long last she decided to put it away. His heart didn't belong to her any longer, it probably never had.

She even thought of throwing the little heart away. To throw it into the pond and tell him she had lost it somewhere. But she just couldn't do that. Her eyes got wet at the mere thought about that, she loved that little heart. So she just locked it away in a drawer.

She had been so happy on that day when he gave it to her, thinking she would stay happy forever.

...

She kept reading her book on childbed fever, but she couldn't concentrate. She was too sad and upset. Maybe she should stop reading that book. Actually, if she died of childbirth, whether from puerperal fever or from some other cause, it would solve the problem. She wouldn't have to live in a marriage without love. And he would get the child that he longed so much for, he had been honest on that account at least.

Suddenly she remembered him saying on their wedding night that they would "have to do that again" if she wasn't pregnant after their first attempt at love-making. She had thought he was joking at the time, that it was another example of his somewhat absurd sense of humour, but now she wondered. Maybe he had meant it? Maybe he had felt forced to do those things all these months, just to please her, although he himself didn't want to.

She blushed at the thought of how demanding she had been, how many times she had been the one to ask him for a kiss, to ask him to make love to her. Well, there would be an end to that now!

...

Elizabeth missed her mother more than ever now. But she made up her mind to keep calm. To let her husband's infidelity remain a subject not spoken of. She wouldn't cry, she wouldn't complain. She would remain the dutiful wife.

She was going to fail in all of that.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you so much for reviewing! I'm so happy for each new review I get!


	42. Trust

During the two weeks that followed, Jonathan had a feeling that something was wrong with Elizabeth. She looked tired and sad, and she seemed to be avoiding almost every form of physical contact.

He attributed it to her pregnancy. She had been pregnant almost as long as they had been married, and it hadn't set down her interest in making love to him until now. But then again it hadn't begun to show until now either, even if it was still barely noticeable except when she was naked. Then he could see that her belly was decidedly rounder, as her breasts had been for some time, although she was still quite slim.

But now she avoided showing him her naked body also, slipping into her nightgown in the dressing room, or going to bed early, so she was already asleep when he went to bed.

He had heard that expecting women could have strange ideas, like wanting to eat unusual food and so on, so he decided that this was a phase she was going through. He didn't take it personal. Which - as we know - he should have done.

He didn't want to press her in any way, he just accepted it as it was and tried to give her time to let it pass. He held her in his arms at night - at least she didn't object to that - and kissed her on her cheek or on her hair. He also kept telling her how much he loved her and how beautiful he thought she was, even though she didn't answer him.

He asked her once what was wrong, but she just turned around and left the room, so he didn't ask again. But she got no new blessings to count - if she was still at it - during those two weeks. This was of course the longest period the two of them had gone without since their wedding.

...

"My mother and father are coming to London on the 17th of December", Elizabeth told Jonathan one day. "I want to go there to meet them."

"But they are coming here for Christmas on the 23rd. Can't you wait until then? I don't have time to go right now, and I don't want you to go all that way on your own, when I can see that you are not well."

He had expected that she wouldn't be pleased with his answer. But he had never expected what she said next.

"Of course you don't have time! You can't spend time away from that married mistress of yours!"

Jonathan was completely at a loss. He was thinking about those women he had been with when he was younger, but they were all of them from London, and he hadn't seen any of them for years. One of them had even died, he had heard. He hadn't dared to tell Elizabeth about those women, and she had never asked about things like that, so he hadn't lied either. But of course she could have found out about one or more of them somehow, though very few people knew about it. But it still couldn't be them she was on about, of course not, that was ages ago, and this sounded like something she thought was going on right now. So what was it?

"I have no idea what you are talking about", he said, looking steadily into her eyes without smiling. That made her burst out crying.

"Do you think I am blind?" she said between sobs.

He put his arms around her. She tried to shake him away, but he insisted. He usually didn't hold her with force, but she was breaking his heart and he didn't know why.

"Hush my darling. I have no other mistress than you, how could I? Please tell me what it is that worries you, because I honestly have no idea."

She didn't answer that, she just kept crying, repeating that he must think she was blind.

It is not nice to be accused of something you haven't done, and this was something Jonathan hadn't had the slightest thought about doing. If she hadn't been so miserable, and also expecting his baby, he would have got angry, but as it was he really couldn't. He wouldn't like to make her more hurt than she already was.

"No, Elizabeth, darling, I don't think you are blind. But I am sure that _I _am, because I still have no idea of what you are talking about."

He held her crying body in his arms, very close to tears himself. He felt how tense she was, that she really was trying to get away from him but couldn't, because he didn't let her and he was so much stronger.

None of them said anything more for a very long time.

...

He felt like a big brute holding her like that, but he couldn't let her go right now. Because as long as he held her, and felt bad about it, he knew that this had to end. And as long as he felt he was bad, he wouldn't be angry with her, he wouldn't blame it all on her.

"This is not the way I want our life together to be", he whispered softly. "You wanting to get away from me, and I holding you much harder than I ought to. But I just don't dare to let you go."

He realized then what the real problem was. It was not with whom she thought he had cheated on her, because he knew he hadn't done it with anybody. So he wouldn't question her about that again.

The real problem was that she didn't trust him.

He had to win back her trust.

...

So he started reasoning with her, chosing his words very carefully.

"Trust me!" he started. "Because I am a lousy liar."

Maybe that was the worst reason she had ever heard for trusting someone. Or at least the funniest. Because he heard her snigger a couple of times. It was a strange mixture of sniggering and sobbing.

Well that was good, wasn't it? Because he hadn't heard her laughing very much those last weeks. She hadn't laughed at all, as far as he could remember. And laughter was such an important parts of their relationship, one of the things he had missed during those weeks. Joking and laughter.

"I know that an unfaithful husband would most probably ask his wife to trust him also. But I am not him", he continued. "I want you to trust me because I am telling the truth. As I said, I'm no good at lying."

She didn't answer, but she had stopped trying to get away from his embrace. He hoped it wasn't from exhaustion but because she believed what he said. She was still very tense, though.

"I be-long to you", he continued, very slowly and deliberately, emphasizing every syllable in that short sentence.

"I belong to you", he repeated.

Then he gave it a little time to sink in before he continued.

"There is no other woman in this world for me", he added. "I love you. Always. These are the really important things."

It seemed that she was listening to him, he noticed, that she believed what he was saying, because he could feel her gradually relaxing in his arms.

"I don't care what it is you think I have been up to, and I'm not going to ask you about it again. Because I know for sure that whatever it is, you have misunderstood it. You are doing me a great injustice by thinking I have ever been unfaithful to you. And I think you are doing yourself a great injustice too, making yourself miserable over something that never has happened."

He had loosened his grip on her now, she could get away from him if she wanted to, but she didn't move.

"This is not the way things should be between us", he said softly then. "This is not the way our marriage should be."

He had pressed her arms against her body when he first took hold of her. She hadn't been able to move them then, but now she got them up and put them around him. He felt the relief streaming through his body, like a warm, comforting wave.

"I'm not very religious, as you know, but I take my wedding vows seriously. I have every intention of keeping them", he continued.

Then, at last, he got an answer from her.

"I want to trust you, Jonathan", she whispered, with tears still in her voice. "I love you so much. I want things to be good between us."

He put his hands softly on her cheeks, like he had done the first time he had kissed her in her brother's library, all those months ago. But this time he didn't kiss her. He just looked lovingly into her tearfilled eyes. They stood like that for a while, none of them saying anything more. The first kiss for many days was hanging in the air between them.

Afterwards they couldn't say which one of them had started that kiss. But their lips had met, and it had been sweet and satisfying, full of tenderness and passion, the way a real kiss should be. And she had wondered why she had ever doubted that he loved her.

...

After that first kiss there was a second one, and also a third. But Jonathan felt there were more things that needed to be said, to prevent this from happening again.

"The problem with being faithful is that there is no real way to prove that you have been that", he said. "It is possible to prove that someone has been _unfaithful_, but not that someone has been faithful. Because if you can prove that you have been faithful one time, you can still have been unfaithful some other time. As long as you don't lock a person up, you can never know what he or she has been up to twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week."

He made a short paus, to give her a chance to think it over or perhaps object.

"So there is no other way for you to know that I am faithful, you just have to trust me. And the reason I know that _you_ have been faithful to _me_ is because I trust you. It works both ways, it just has to. I love you so much."

She was quiet for a while, carefully thinking over all of what he had said.

"You are right of course", she said then. "I have to trust you. Please forget about it all, I must have got it wrong. I'm sorry, I have no wish to lock you up. Or to be locked up myself."

"Good!" he said. "I know I shouldn't say so myself, but I think you have a very good husband. I am not interested in anybody but you, not in that way. All I want is for you to be happy."

...

Afterwards - but not until many weeks later - he had dared to laugh about this whole thing.

"I must say you have the most flattering view of my virility! Keeping up with you isn't all that easy, you know. And you thought I would even have the strength left to have a mistress on the side!"

She got that in the wrong way, of course.

"You find me too demanding?" she asked, biting her lower lip and looking quite sad. "You want me to stop showing you what I want?"

"No, of course not, my little darling! It is very nice to be desired like that. I have enjoyed every single day of our married life. And every single night."

...

But that was not until very much later. Right now he just wanted to please her. He was so afraid of upsetting her again.

"If you really want to go to London, we will arrange it somehow", he said.

"No, I think I can wait to meet my mother now. It is really _you_ that I need to spend more time with. Because these last two weeks have been so dreadful, I have felt so alone. I want to feel that I have your love again."

"You have always had that", he said, smiling softly at her.

"Yes, I know. But I thought I had lost it. I was so miserable."

...

When they made love that evening, for the first time in more than two weeks, there was an extra gentleness in the way they touched each other. There was a special sweetness, like that very first time. But without the awkwardness, since they knew each other so much better by now. There was so much tenderness between them, the tenderness that comes from knowing that all we have got in this life is only temporary, and can so easily be broken or lost.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for reviewing!

The last chapter gave me a chance to create a little drama in all the Jonathan/Elizabeth fluffiness. It also made it possible for me to write about the very unfair rules for marriage and divorce in England at the time, without sounding too much like a history book.

I must have some use for all my shallow research.


	43. Disobedience

Elizabeth was happy that she could believe all Jonathan's words of love again. Because during the last weeks she had thought he was just reciting them without understanding their meaning, like a lesson learnt by heart. She knew some people could do that, as if the declarations of love were German prepositions or French verbs. Caring not what it all meant, just wanting to make the teacher - or the lover - happy.

But now she knew Jonathan wasn't doing that, he meant what he said. After all, he had said he was a bad at lying.

And he wasn't all that good at German prepositions either.

...

It took more than a day before it dawned upon Jonathan who the woman that Elizabeth had worried about must be.

They were sitting in the library, he was occupied with his usual tasks, she was reading her book. All was well between them again, their normal life together was restored as if it had never been interrupted. He had promised not to question her about her suspicions, and she had felt very ashamed of them, and not wanted to talk about them. Surely she had overreacted to a simple amiability towards a childhood friend, she had thought.

Now he interrupted his work and looked at her, a little unsure if he should talk to her about this, or if it would make things bad again. But he decided that he ought to tell her, she had agreed to trust him, accepted that he was faithful to her. She also had the right to know about what had happened between him and Georgina in their youth. Why Elizabeth had no reason to worry about this.

So he interrupted her reading.

"Elizabeth, my darling", he said gently. "You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to, because I have promised not to question you about it."

"Yes?" she said, reluctantly putting down her dictionary, where she was just looking up a word. Then she looked at him and smiled. "What is it?"

"It's just that I, well, I want to tell you a little more about Lady Georgina Jarvis. Because we were very close friends when we were children. We still are."

He could see that she was struggling to keep smiling. He had obviously been right in his assumption.

"I just want you to know that I and Georgina are friends and nothing more. She has never been more than a friend to me and she never will."

"Alright, I believe you", she said, but he could see that it wasn't entirely true. "Can I keep on reading now?"

And with that she picked up her dictionary again.

"No, please Elizabeth! I want to tell you about this, and it might take some time", he pleaded.

"Let's wait until we are in bed, then. It is so much easier to trust you when you are naked. And I really have to continue reading this book."

...

So, when they were in bed that evening and after they had made love, she whispered to him:

"You are right, of course. It was Lady Georgina that I thought was your mistress. So please tell me about her."

"Of course it was Georgina, I should have known!" he muttered. "And I should have told you about this long ago."

"I happened to overhear the two of you that day, the day when it was so sunny", Elizabeth added. "I had fallen asleep in the next room. When I got up I saw you and her talking together. You didn't even notice I was there. You looked into her eyes and called me 'a trusting little thing', you said that was one of the reasons you married me."

"Oh, did you overhear that? Well, I think you _are_ a trusting little thing. And that _is_ one of the reasons I love you. Because you trusted me so early on. The way you were during our courtship...I think you trusted me not to hurt you... So, what is it you don't like about me calling you that?"

Yes, what was it really? He called her little all the time, 'my little darling', and things like that, in spite of the fact that she was taller than him. No, it wasn't that, she quite liked that. She had felt large and unwomanly most of her life - being six feet one made her conspicuously tall in a time when the average British woman was five feet two and the average man five feet five. So it was nice that he didn't think her large, it made her feel more feminine that he called her little. Was it that he called her a thing then, when she was a human being? But he had called her that directly to her face also, and she had understood that it was only a term of endearment. Trusting then? But she had promised to trust him, and he had said that he trusted her, there was nothing wrong with being trusting.

"Nothing, really. Only that I thought the two of you were lovers. I was all muddled up, barely awake after a bad dream. The two of you looked so close. And I heard you say something about me not suspecting anything."

"Ah, did you hear that." He looked quite a bit worried about that.

...

He thought back about his conversation with Georgina Jarvis that day. Georgina had asked him how his Christmas present for Elizabeth was coming along. Because Georgina had given him the idea for that. They had discussed the present in some detail after that, not knowing that Elizabeth was in the next room.

And then Georgina had asked if Elizabeth hadn't suspected anything.

"Did you hear what we said just before I said that?" he asked then.

"No, that was the first thing I heard." She wondered why that was so important.

"No? Good!" She could see how relieved he was. What was this really?

"Good? Why?" she asked, trying not to sound distrustful.

"It is a secret, you see."

She was quiet, and he could feel her getting just a little bit tense in his arms.

"Oh no, not that kind of secret! Not a bad secret, a good secret!" he hurried to add. "Something... well I can't tell you more. Please trust me there, you will know eventually, I promise."

And she decided to trust him. Because she wanted to trust him. But also because she simply did.

...

"I didn't trust you those last weeks, though", she said a little later. "I'm not all that trusting!"

He thought back about that conversation with Georgina again.

"Was that the last thing you heard me say? That you trusting me was one of my reasons for marrying you?" he asked her then. "You didn't hear what I said after that?"

"No, I didn't hear anything more after that. I was so shocked, my head was spinning, I had just woken up. So I closed the door softly and sat down a couple of minutes. Then I went out through the other door. I just couldn't face meeting her that day."

"So you didn't hear what I told her after that? That I am so happy with you and love you so very much?"

"No, I didn't hear that. I just thought some terrible things about you. That you didn't love me, that you would take the baby away from me if I tried to divorce you. I am so sorry, I know how unfair I was!"

"Don't be! And I really hope you understand that I would never take our child from you. I know what the laws are, that they make me the guardian of our children and also of you. But I don't think that is fair. I think you have as much right to the child as I have. And the right to rule your own life."

"I know you do. So I also know I was unfair to you during those weeks. I interpreted everything in the worst possible way."

"I just wish you had told me about this earlier on, so we could have sorted it out at once!" he said with a sigh.

...

"Please tell me about you and Lady Georgina now!" she said a little later.

He was quiet for a while, deciding how to begin this.

"Georgina told me that day that she was very happy for me. She also told me that she likes you, and that she can see that you are the right woman for me, that you make me happy. She cares about me, you see. She has a happy marriage herself, since many years. Her husband is my friend also, as you know."

Elizabeth listened in silence, her head on his shoulder, her hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat.

"Georgina Jarvis is the closest thing to a sister I have ever had", he continued. "Perhaps our relationship is easy to misunderstand. But accusing me of being close to her is like if I accused you of being close to Henrik. Well, almost, we don't have any blood-ties."

He waited for a couple of moments before he continued, to give her a chance to think that over.

"I have a confession to make - we were once engaged to be married. Only for a day, but still. I was twenty-two and she was nineteen. Our parents had arranged it all, they didn't ask her, they didn't ask me. They only told us after everything was settled and agreed upon. It's not uncommon, as you must know. Even less so at the time, more than twenty years ago."

"I told my parents that I couldn't marry her", he continued. "But they considered it impossibly rude to call it off. But this was about my whole life, and hers as well as mine. So I went and told _her_ parents that I couldn't marry her. I knew her parents well enough to dare to do a thing like that, though I'm sure it was considered very improper and probably also very insulting. I didn't mean to be that, I really tried to be as polite as I could about it all. I told them that I loved Georgina, but not in that way. That she was like a younger sister to me. That it was quite impossible for me to marry her."

He was thinking back on it quietly.

"I didn't tell them in so many words, but I got them to understand that it felt impossible for me to be a husband to her in the physical way. That they probably couldn't expect any grandchildren if they forced us to go through with that marriage."

...

"My parents and Georgina's where very close friends", Jonathan continued after a while. "They had been joking about and planning for Georgina and me marrying ever since she was born, three years after me. We had met on many occasions, even going on vacations together, and I really felt like her older brother."

They were both quiet for a while, Elizabeth didn't know how to answer this. She only knew that she believed him, she had nothing to fear from that woman. She wondered what it would have felt like, being forced to marry someone she hadn't chosen herself. Scaring and impossible, she assumed. He was a very brave man to call it off, and she was so glad he had.

"I honestly don't think I would ever have managed to make love to her, even if I can see that she is quite a beautiful woman. I knew her too well, all since we were little children. Some people have successful marriages to people they have known well since childhood, I have often wondered how they have manage to do that. To me it would have felt like incest. Maybe she feels more like a sister to me because I don't have any real sisters, but I don't know. Think of what it would have felt like marrying one of your brothers... no, no, no ... don't think about that!"

He was quiet for some moments again before he continued.

"As I told you our parents wanted us to marry, but none of us wanted it. She wanted to marry John Jarvis, she had been in love with him for almost a year, and since we were so close, she had told me about it. And I ... well, I didn't want to marry anyone at all at the time. Or perhaps I wanted to marry you, but I didn't know you existed. Or maybe I did know, somewhere deep inside, who knows...but you must have been just a little child when I was twenty-two...ten or eleven. Well, at least I was sure I couldn't marry Georgina."

Elizabeth didn't say anything, but she had cuddled up closer to him in bed and was playing with her hand in his hair. He felt that all was OK with her, that he should have told her this long ago, to avoid those last dreadful weeks. But there had been so many things to talk about, somehow this had been forgotten.

"I did her a great favour by rejecting her, strange as that may sound. We were friends before, but that is the strongest foundation of our friendship. And it made me a better friend to John Jarvis also. I knew him before of course, but we weren't all that close. I did him a great favour also, as I think you understand. You can ask him about what happened, if you want to."

He put his hand on Elizabeth's cheek and caressed it softly.

"I hope you understand now that you have no reason to worry about my relation to her. If I had wanted her that way I could have had her then, in marriage. And I think that the only reason we are still friends is because we didn't marry. I'm sure we would soon have hated each other if we had."

That was it, he thought, he had told her the whole story. Well, almost.

"This was the greatest act of disobedience in my life", he added. "I loved my parents very much and wanted to be a good son to them. But this was just impossible, and I can never regret what I did, even though it made my parents worry. But at least it didn't put an end to their friendship with Georgina's parents. Her parents thought I had been right to say no, and courageous for doing it, and they told my parents so. It did help things further that John Jarvis proposed to Georgina shortly after, so she didn't end up an old maid. But my parents never saw me married, and I am sorry about that. I so wish they could have met you, and that they would have had a chance to see their little grandchild. Well, there is nothing to be done about that."

There was just one last thing he had to say. But first he put his hand gently on her belly.

"I will never try to force our little one here or any other child we get to marry anyone they don't want to. I hope you will agree with me on that point."

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Many thanks for your reviews! Please review!


	44. Interlude: Lady Edith, 1920, later

As she stood there in Anthony's bedroom, looking at him as he slept on the bed, Edith thought back at that garden party at Downton Abbey many, many years ago.

That was the first time she had really noticed Sir Anthony Strallan.

How many years ago could it be? Fifteen? Yes, it must be, Edith had only been an eleven-year-old girl at the time.

Of course she had seen Sir Anthony many times before that, but she was a child and didn't take much interest in grownups, other than her own relatives. Not until that day, and even then she had been more interested in Lady Strallan than in Sir Anthony.

They had been playing hide-and-seek, Mary, Edith, Sybil and Patrick. Well at least Edith was playing it. Because either she had found a hiding-place that was too good, so no one could find her. Or else the others were tired both of her and the game and didn't really try to find her any longer. Whatever the reason was, Edith had been sitting on a big branch up in an oak for quite a while.

Suddenly Edith heard a pair of grownups talking quietly to each other as they were approaching the bench below the tree where she was hiding. When they came nearer she saw that it was the tall, blond Sir Anthony Strallan and the much shorter and much darker Lady Strallan, Maud. Edith saw that Lady Strallan had difficulties walking, Sir Anthony supported her and then helped her to sit down on the bench. Her belly was very big. Edith knew what it meant when someone had a belly like that, it meant she was expecting a baby. If she was a woman that is, a man with a belly like that had probably only eaten too much.

Edith heard Sir Anthony talking very tenderly to his wife, calling her his little darling and asking her if she was feeling any better. Maud answered in the same gentle way, saying she felt much better now, sitting down in the shadow. It was probably only the hot sun that had made her feel dizzy. Then she whispered something in his ear, and Sir Anthony laughed, putting his arm protectively over his wife's shoulders.

Edith was sitting very quietly there in the tree. She didn't want the grownups to see her, maybe they would think she had hidden up there to be able to eavesdrop on them. She hoped they wouldn't stay too long on that bench, she was feeling rather stiff from sitting in the same position for so long.

The pair below her kept whispering softly to each other. Edith could only hear part of what they said, but what she heard was full of endearments. Sir Anthony put his hand gently on his wife's belly, Edith heard them talking about all their hopes for their coming baby. Then she heard Sir Anthony say that he could feel the baby kicking. After that they started kissing each other.

A little later Sir Anthony got up from the bench. His wife had said that she was thirsty, so he told her that he was going to get her something to drink. He said she should stay where she was, no need to go out into the sun right now, he would soon be back. After that he left.

But Lady Strallan was still sitting on that bench, so Edith could still not come down. It was getting rather tiresome. Now that she had heard them talking for such a long time, and even seen them kissing each other, it was even more embarrassing for her to reveal her hiding-place.

Maud was singing softly to herself. Something from an opera, if Edith remembered it right. Perhaps Maud was singing for her child. Well, she did have a beautiful voice. Edith was enchanted, she had never heard Lady Strallan sing before.

And then Edith sneezed.

Maud stopped singing and looked up apprehensively at the tree above her head. When she saw Edith she smiled.

"Bless you!" she said.

Edith smiled back. Then she climbed down from the tree.

"Hello!" Maud said. "You are Lady Edith, aren't you. Lord Grantham's daughter."

"Hello! Yes I am", said Edith. She tried to behave like a lady, wich wasn't all that easy after being caught in such an unladylike way. But Edith was a lady, after all, as her granny always pointed out to her. Not an urchin.

"Pleased to meet you!" Maud said, still smiling.

"Pleased to meet you, Lady Strallan!" Edith answered, forcing herself to be polite.

Edith felt rather shy, even more shy than usual, since Maud must have understood that Edith had listened to her and her husband earlier on.

Maud was still smiling as she looked intently at Edith.

"I wish my own child will be as sweet and beautiful as you", she said then, stroking her belly.

Edith blushed. She wasn't used to being called beautiful. And Lady Strallan was so very beautiful herself.

"The little one is kicking right now. Do you want to feel it?" Lady Strallan asked with a smile.

What did a lady answer to a thing like that? This was a case which no one had ever prepared Edith for. Not her mother, not her granny, not her governess. But she knew it was generally more polite to say yes than no, so she decided on that. And also - as most eleven-year-olds - she was very curious about these mysteries of life.

"Yes, please", she said then with a smile. So Lady Strallan took Edith's hand and placed it gently on her own belly. At first nothing happened. Edith just stood there, rather embarrassed, with her hand on Lady Strallan's belly. But then, suddenly, Edith felt something moving in there. She could feel a couple of rather strong kicks from a tiny little foot against her own palm.

Edith was fascinated. This was so wonderful, a little living person moving around in its mother's belly! Edith had never felt anything as exciting before. But it wasn't polite to drag things out, so reluctantly she took her hand away.

"Thank you! That was wonderful!" Edith said with a smile.

Just then Sir Anthony returned, carrying two glasses. He gave Edith a quick nod, but after that he only had eyes for his wife. He gave her one of the glasses and asked her how she felt. He didn't even seem to notice that Edith was still there. So Edith slipped away, with a smile and a quick wave of good-bye to Lady Strallan, who smiled back and gave Edith a short wave in return.

To Edith this meeting with Maud had remained one of the enchanted moments of her childhood. There weren't all that many of them.

...

It was less than a month later when Edith heard her father say that Lady Strallan had died in childbirth and her new-born son had died shortly after.

Edith had started crying and run up to her room. No one understood why she was taking this so badly. No one ever understood her anyway, so she didn't bother to explain. Mary - who was fourteen and, well, Mary - just sneered: "Someone we hardly knew". Sybil - who was only ten and, well, Sybil - shed quite a few tears of her own.

Edith had felt so sorry for the kind lady, who had lost both her life and her child. And she had felt so sorry for the kind gentleman, who had been left without both the wife that he loved, and the child he had been longing for.

And it was so terribly unfair that a little child could die even before it had really started living.

...

When little Edith had seen how gentle Sir Anthony was to his wife during that garden party she had wished she herself would marry someone like him when she grew up. Someone who would love Edith just as much as Sir Anthony loved Maud.

But Edith hadn't fallen in love with Sir Anthony there and then. Of course not, that had come many years later! Sir Anthony was married and Edith was only a child. And besides, she had been in love with Patrick - very deeply and very unhappily in love with Patrick, who was three years older than her and thought Edith was a stupid child and couldn't care less about her. That love had lasted for many years, up until and even after Patrick's death. Patrick had been a little friendlier to Edith when he got older, but he had only loved Mary, who wasn't all that interested in him.

No, Edith had actually liked Lady Strallan very much more than she had liked Sir Anthony at the time. Maud had been nice to Edith, Anthony had hardly noticed that she existed.

But seeing the two of them together gave her a vision of what true love was all about. She knew her parents loved each other also, or at least they said so, but she never saw that kind of gentleness between them. Perhaps they were too close to Edith for her to notice it.

Did Anthony love Edith now as much as he had loved Maud? She was quite sure he didn't, he wouldn't have tried to abandon her if he had done that. But he would learn to do it. Edith was going to be a wonderful wife and she knew Anthony had the capacity for love.

Was Edith jealous of Maud? No! How could she be jealous of someone who was dead? Besides, she had been between one and eleven years old when Anthony was married to Maud. Edith was only glad that Anthony had someone to love him then.

...

Today Edith had not only married _someone like_ Sir Anthony, she had married _him_. Life is strange, isn't it, moving around in circles and bends like a tangled skein of yarn.

Come to think of it, Edith had already felt her husband's child kicking. How many virgin brides had ever done that?

Edith was still very sorry for Maud, who had been so kind and beautiful and died so young. She knew Anthony had loved Maud very much. If Maud had lived, and perhaps the little boy also, Anthony wouldn't have looked twice at Edith. And that was exactly the way it should have been, Edith wouldn't have wanted to marry him otherwise. Marriage meant something to Anthony, Edith knew that. He was taking his wedding vows seriously.

And Edith had never heard Anthony say one bad word about Maud.

...

Right now Anthony was sleeping peacefully on his bed. Edith had been very relieved when she found him sleeping there on top of the covers. At least it wasn't like she had feared. He hadn't just wanted to get away from this bossy woman who had forced him to marry her. He had just laid down for a minute to compose himself. She was almost sure that he had intended to come to her. Because if he hadn't, he would of course have been beneath the covers, not on top of them.

And his wonderful feet wouldn't have been so cold.

Edith was fascinated by Anthony's feet. They were so big. She stroke them gently. It was strangely enticing to touch his feet like that. They were so much bigger than her own, very masculine. She only touched the upper side, she knew how ticklish the soles could be, and she didn't want to wake him up.

He was exhausted, it was obvious, their wedding day hadn't been a good day for him. Let him sleep, there was no hurry. And it was better to let him set the pace.

...

She decided that she would move over to this room, to sleep with him here. Sleep with him, quite literally.

So she went back to the other room, got the extra big duvet she had made him buy because it would be wide enough for the two of them to cuddle up together under. She draped it around him where he lay on the bed. She was careful that his feet should be covered, which wasn't easy, since he was such a tall man. Then she cuddled up on her right side between his chest and one of his arms, with her head on his shoulder. Which arm was this, the left one? The good one then, which was as it should. She had better be careful with the damaged one until she knew a little better, she didn't want to hurt it any further.

She actually liked to have him sleeping like this. It gave her a chance to get used to having him so near, a chance to feel what a big man he was. To get used to his body without being distracted by kisses and caresses. To just be close to him without any of the other things happening just yet.

She didn't touch him beneath his pyjamas, it didn't seem fair to do that when he was asleep. But there wasn't much between them, she had taken off her own robe and was only wearing her very thin and lacy gown. His pyjamas wasn't all that thick either, she could feel his chest through it when she moved her hand tenderly over his jacket. But she only did that once, she should have to be patient and wait till he was awake.

She cuddled up closer to him in the bed. It seemed she didn't have to be careful, he just slept on. He must be utterly exhausted, poor little thing!

She didn't find it at all strange for some reason that she thought of this rather sturdy gentleman of six feet four as 'poor little thing'.

...

She lay there wide awake for many hours, thinking back on what had happened during the day.

It was so warm and cosy to be here with him under the covers, and she might have fallen asleep herself if she hadn't worried so much about what he would say when he woke up. Maybe he hadn't intended to come to her. Maybe he had just wanted to show her that he didn't want her in that way, and she had just been too stupid to take the hint. This was his bedroom after all, maybe he would think she was intruding just by being here.

...

Then, when it was almost dawn, he suddenly woke up. His chin fell, when he saw her so close, looking at him.

"Lady Edith!" he blurted out.

Edith laughed, it was all so absurd. "Please Anthony, I think it will do with just Edith. I am your wife now, we got married. Don't you remember?"

Anthony laughed a little at himself, feeling quite a bit ashamed when the events of the previous day came back to him.

Then he did something that made her heart skip faster. He raised his good arm from the bed behind her back and put it around her in a proper embrace. Then he pulled her closer. That gave her the courage to mumble into his chest, into that beautiful striped pyjamas jacket: "Do you hate me? For making you marry me when you didn't want to."

"No, of course I don't, I could never hate you, my darling Edith. And I _did_ want to marry you, I wanted it so very much. I only thought that it was wrong. I still think that it is wrong. For _your_ sake."

He was quiet for a moment.

"I'm so sorry, my dearest darling. I was just going to lay down here for a moment, but I must have fallen asleep. I must have slept for hours. I haven't been able to sleep at nights for quite some time, you see."

He was quiet for a moment again.

Then he added: "It seems like I have managed to make a mess of our wedding night as well."

She got her head up so she could look down on him and into those wonderful blue eyes. Then she gave him a mischievous smile.

"Don't worry, Anthony darling! There is still time. Our wedding night isn't over yet!"

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you so very, very much for reviewing!

...

My story 'A Beating From the Headmaster' was intended as an interlude to this story. If I hadn't published it already it would have been chapter 48 here. So now I have to think up something else for that.


	45. Nervousness

Sir Jonathan Strallan was nervous. Or rather - he was scared to death. Well, maybe not to death, but very close to it.

He was soon going to meet his wife's parents for the first time ever. And it made him absolutely terrified.

He hadn't even bothered to ask for Elizabeth's father's permission to marry her, and that worried him now. He and Elizabeth had got a telegram from her parents with a blessing for their marriage, welcoming Jonathan into the family. But he hadn't given her parents much choice, had he? He was of the opinion that a grownup woman had the right to decide for herself whom she should marry, so he hadn't cared about it at the time. That was easy when the man he was supposed to have asked was in the other end of the world, but it was much more difficult now, when he was going to meet him and his wife in person.

For some strange and inconceivable reason Jonathan also felt guilty about making their daughter with child. Even if he had married her before he had done that. But he was afraid that Elizabeth's parents would be very strict, and the fact that she had got pregnant so early on in their marriage might make them believe that he - well, they - had started that part of their married life before the wedding. Which her parents would perhaps disapprove of very strongly.

Elizabeth's pregnancy made it so obvious what the two of them had been doing. And, oddly enough, Jonathan couldn't help feeling a little bit embarrassed to have done something like that with - to - somebody's daughter. Though - of course - every woman in the world is somebody's daughter.

If he had just thought a little further he needn't have worried about that. Because parents wouldn't have been parents if they hadn't done things like that themselves.

And most parents to grownup children are delighted to have grandchildren.

...

Christmas is family time. Sir Jonathan's last Christmases, after his mother had died seven years ago, had been rather lonely. He hadn't made much fuss of Christmas those years. He had closed down much of Locksley, allowing most of his servants a couple of days off, along with an extra salary to buy things for their own Christmas celebrations.

Last Christmas he had spent alone in his London house, only having the cook, who had a sister in London, come in a couple of times and make him some tea and toast or serve him a simple plate of cold meat and vegetables and suchlike. Most of the time those days he had sat in his library reading. But on the morning of Christmas day, the memories of all the happy Christmases at Locksley in his childhood and youth had made him feel very lonely. So he had gone out for a long walk in the streets of London.

There is no place more deserted than London in the morning of Christmas Day. Not even the beggars had bothered to come out, since there was no one there to beg from. Jonathan had felt like he was the last survivor after some terrible disaster. He had felt like walking around in a town deserted after a fire or a flood, except that all the buildings were intact.

He had walked for nearly two hours without meeting one single human being.

Walking there in the streets, feeling lonely, he had started wondering what he had really done with his life. Why he had never found any woman tempting enough to marry. He had danced with hundreds of women, perhaps even thousands of them. Most of them had been very nice to dance with, some even wonderful to dance with. But not a single one of them had managed to light that spark in his mind, the spark that makes you want to spend the rest of your life with someone.

Even the parts of your life when you are not dancing.

...

The contrast to this Christmas couldn't be greater. The whole Kempell family was going to descend upon him. Eleven grownups and four children, not counting Elizabeth and himself. This was going to be a family Christmas in a grander scale than he had ever experienced before. There had never been many relatives there during his earlier Christmases since both his father and his mother had been the only child in their families, just like himself. And he had never celebrated Christmas with children, not even when he was one himself.

He was happy about it all, of course he was. He had met all of Elizabeth's brothers and their wives before, and he had liked them all. And Elizabeth's two younger sisters were really a fresh breeze. And having Elizabeth's little niece and nephews playing at Locksley couldn't be anything but delightful.

But, as I have already told you, Sir Jonathan was terrified of meeting Elizabeth's parents.

He was sitting in the carriage with Elizabeth, on their way to pick up all the Kempells at the railway station. They had to bring two carriages to have room for them all.

...

There would be seventeen people celebrating Christmas at Locksley, thirteen grownups and four children.

So this Christmas would be very different for the servants at Locksley as well. Instead of a couple of days off, they had to work harder than usual, taking care of the needs of so many guests.

Sir Jonathan had worried about that. But most of his servants were born and brought up on the tenant farms of Locksley, so they would have a chance to see their families anyway. And also, more servants than usual were needed during the time his in-laws were staying, so some of the tenants and their wives or children got a chance to earn some extra money. There wasn't much to do on the farms during this time of the year anyway. There was also going to be a big Christmas dinner for the servants and tenants at Locksley, something Sir Jonathan hadn't bothered to arrange while he was a bachelor.

So most of the servants were quite happy about these big Christmas celebrations.

...

George Kempell, Elizabeth's father, was worried. He was quite a bit nervous about meeting his first son-in-law. He was also feeling rather ashamed of himself.

He looked around at his four sons in the train carriage. They had all grown up to good and capable men. The three eldest were already established in life, married, two of them had children, they were all of them able to support themselves and their families. Their father had provided them each with a large sum of money to get them started in their different professions. It was when he compared that to the pittance he had given Elizabeth as a dowry that he felt ashamed of himself. He had even given Elizabeth less money than it had cost him to have her living with him and his wife in India.

It had only seemed right at the time, though. He knew Sir Jonathan Strallan was a man with a big estate and a large fortune. He had known Jonathan's father, who had been very wealthy, and he knew that Jonathan was the only son and had inherited everything. So he had thought that Elizabeth would be well provided for and didn't need any extra money.

Because at the time George had one more son and two more daughters to get settled. And he hadn't known then that his other two daughters, or at least Celia, probably would make an even better marriage than Elizabeth had. The two girls were going to marry in the Spring of next year.

When he had been on the other side of the world it had been easy to decide that he didn't need to settle very much on Elizabeth. But it felt more uncomfortable now, when he would soon meet his son-in-law. He really felt like a miser.

...

Elizabeth was in a very different mood from Jonathan and also from George. She was full to the brim of happy anticipation. They would all have a wonderful Christmas together, she was sure of that.

It was many months since she and her sisters had boarded the ship that was going to take them to London. When she had said good-bye to her parents in India, she hadn't expected to spend such a long time away from them.

But now they would soon meet again. She was longing so to see her mother, and also her father, of course. She was also longing very much to have all her relatives as her guests. She wanted to show them Locksley, she was looking forward to having them all staying at her new home.

But most of all she was looking forward to having her parents meeting her husband. She was proud of her husband and she was certain that he and her parents would like each other.

...

Elizabeth's mother, Emilia Kempell, was charmed by her new son-in-law. She hadn't expected Jonathan to be quite so good-looking and had almost blushed when he greeted her with a polite kiss on her hand. She wondered briefly why this rich and handsome man had wanted to marry her daughter, who had never been pursued by men before as far as her mother knew.

Jonathan could see now where Elizabeth had got her height and her colours. The mother was quite tall for a woman and a bit taller than Celia and Christin, although she was not nearly as tall as Elizabeth. She was just as pale as Elizabeth though, with the same kind of baby-blond hair, but her face was more like Celia's or Christin's.

...

The first meeting between Jonathan and George had gone much better than any of them had expected. A handshake, a few words about the weather. No smile of course, men were not supposed to smile at each other. Nothing very personal was either said or done when the two most important men in Elizabeth's life met for the first time. The two most important men before baby Anthony was born, that is.

But they took quite a liking for each other, and were going to be a lot friendlier over the punch later that evening. After all they had something in common. Jonathan loved Elizabeth, George loved his daughter. In their different ways, they both loved that same strange and wonderful woman.

...

There were thirteen people around the table that evening when the children were asleep. Jonathan hoped it wouldn't mean bad luck.

Emilia Kempell was once again looking at her new son-in-law. He really was remarkably handsome, in fact she couldn't remember ever seeing a more good-looking man. He had probably been quite a heart-throb when he was younger. He also had a very nice estate, and seemed to be an amiable and friendly man.

This was the man that her rather plain - or at least her plainest - daughter had managed to secure for herself! It was quite remarkable. There must surely be some kind of catch, she thought.

So she asked Elizabeth, with a quick glance at Jonathan: "Är han snäll mot dig?"

There was only one answer to that, of course.

"Jättesnäll!" Elizabeth said with a broad, happy smile.

"But we had better speak English", she added. "So no one thinks we are saying anything bad about them..."

...

When they were in bed that evening, Jonathan asked Elizabeth:

"Why were you talking German to your mother?"

Elizabeth looked at him with a bewildered air.

"German?" she said.

Then she realised. "Oh, that! It is not German, it's Swedish. My mother is Swedish. Haven't I told you? I was born in Stockholm."

...

AN: Thank you for reading! I am so very, very thankful to those of you who are still reviewing some chapters of this very long story! Please keep reviewing! And to all of you readers: Please review, at least sometimes!

Sorry about the Swedish in this chapter! And if it didn't irritate you, you are probably Swedish yourself. It means: Mummy: "_Is he kind to you?_" Elizabeth: "_Very kind!_"

...

I really like the idea of giving Elizabeth a Swedish mother in my story. Because - after all - she has one.

And why can't Sir Anthony be partly Swedish, when Edith is half American? Nothing AU in that, I think. He looks like a Swede is supposed to look: tall, blond and blue-eyed.

And I will write the rest of this story in Swedish. (Sorry! Only kidding! I will try to behave.)


	46. Mummy

Lady Emilia Kempell, the mother of Lady Elizabeth Strallan, was born in Stockholm in 1807 and the daughter of a Swedish nobleman. Her maiden name was Gyllenstråk, but of course no one in her new country could either write or pronounce that, not even her husband or children. Except Elizabeth.

Emilia had met George Kempell on a ball in Stockholm. She had fallen in love with his rich brown hair and his dark blue eyes, but most of all she had fallen in love with his friendly smile. He was a man who seemed always to be happy and always smiling.

At least he was always smiling at her.

George had a minor post at the English legation. The main part of his work was writing copies of documents - a rather boring job that is today usually performed by a photocopier. But you have to start somewhere, and it gave George a chance to learn diplomacy and also to see a foreign country.

It also gave him a wife, although that wasn't really meant to be.

**...**

In 1863 Emilia Kempell was fifty-six years old and the mother of eight children, seven living and one dead. The living ones were all grownup by then, but little Anthony had of course remained five years old. Not a day went by without his mother thinking of him.

One by one she had seen her other boys disappear from her. First Henrik, then Robert, then Peter and finally George junior. First they were sent away to school in England. That happened at a much lower age than their mother would have wanted. Even so it was a few years later than was common, because of Elizabeth's excellent teaching. After they went to school Emilia had only seen her boys a couple of times each, when they had been able to come to India during their holidays.

When the boys were grown up, they had all stayed in London, forging out a life for themselves, getting started in their different professions. They had slipped away from their mother, falling into the arms of other women.

This was exactly as it should be, it was even stated in the holy bible that a man should abandon his mother and his father and keep to his wife. So Emilia was happy for her sons and even more happy about the grandchildren. The only thing that made her sad was that while her husband was posted in India, she hadn't had the opportunity to meet any of her three daughters-in-law. Worse still, she hadn't met any of her four grandchildren. Not even Martin, Henrik's son, who was almost six years old.

So Emilia had been very happy when her husband had been transferred back to London, so she finally got to meet her daughters-in-law and the children.

...

Elizabeth was called Elizabeth after her grandmother, George Kempell's mother. So it was only right that Emilia and George Kempell's first son should be named Henrik after Emilia's father, Henrik Gyllenstråk. George tried to argue that the boy should be called Henry instead, having a Swedish name would probably get him into trouble at school in England. But Emilia insisted. And since Emilia had been able to wrap George around her little finger, all from the very start of their marriage, he gave in to her.

Henrik Kempell never had any problems with his foreign name. On the contrary, he was rather proud of it, it made him feel special. And it was very good that he wasn't called Henry when he started school. Because being named Henrik helped distinguish him from the two Henrys in his class.

His name was really the only thing that disclosed Henrik's Swedish heritage. He was of course tall, blond and blue-eyed also, but that is not all that uncommon among Englishmen either. He liked playing cricket, he was very good at it and understood all of its intricate rules, which is something a real Swede would never do. But he had an English father and he had grown up in England, although he was born in Stockholm, so it was no wonder.

...

In 1863 Emilia's daughters had started to slip away from her, just like their brothers had done before them. Her darling Elizabeth, her very first little baby, had suddenly met and married a man that Emilia had never seen and knew next to nothing about. She and her husband had started expecting Elizabeth to stay with them, to take care of them and keep them company in their old age. Elizabeth was already thirty-five, which was considered a little too old for a woman to have any hopes of marriage.

All that had suddenly changed, Elizabeth was now both married and pregnant. Which both delighted and frightened her mother.

Emilia Kempell had never worried much during her own pregnancies. When she was expecting Elizabeth, and was new to it all, she had worried a little bit of course. But not much, maybe she was too young to worry. All had gone well, so when Henrik was on his way only a year later, she already felt that this was something she was good at.

But now she was terrified. The mere thought that her first-born daughter was going to go through all the dangers of pregnancy and childbirth made her tremble with fear. Sometimes during the years, especially after the death of her little Anthony, Emilia had even been grateful that her eldest daughter didn't seem to attract men. It was a comfort to have one of her children still at home, and Elizabeth had always been very close to her mother. And Emilia knew how dangerous pregnancy and childbirth could be, not everybody was as lucky as she herself had been.

Emilia had tried to teach all her children Swedish, but Elizabeth was the only on who had learnt more than a few words. Perhaps because she had spent her first four years in Stockholm, even running around playing with Swedish children the last half of a year or so. Perhaps because Elizabeth had a general talent for learning, languages as well as other things.

So Emilia and Elizabeth always talked Swedish to each other when they were alone.

...

Emilia could see that Jonathan was not only very handsome and very kind, he was also very much in love with Elizabeth. It was also obvious that he was good for her daughter, Elizabeth was blooming. Perhaps the pregnancy was also good for her, Elizabeth had a constant smile on her face. Elizabeth had always had a happy disposition and never been one to complain, but this was something beyond that. Her eyes were absolutely glowing when she looked at her husband, especially when he looked back at her with almost the same glow in his own eyes.

Emilia was happy for Elizabeth, of course she was. Her daughter had got everything a mother could ever wish for her daughter to have. If only this pregnacy would go the way it should!

...

Elizabeth was worried about giving birth, and wanted her mother to comfort her. She wanted her to tell her that it was nothing to be afraid of, only a natural part of a woman's life. That her mother's own pregnancies and child births had been easy, and since Elizabeth was her daughter it would most certainly be the same for her.

But instead it turned out the other way around. Emilia tried very hard to be confident, but her dread shone through. She gave her daughter a very long hug - well, several hugs - but she couldn't keep her voice steady when she talked about how easy it had been for herself to give birth.

In the end it was Elizabeth who told her mother that she had no reason whatsoever to worry about the birth of Elizabeth's first child and Emilia's fifth grandchild. Elizabeth wasn't sure that she had managed to convince her mother, but at least she herself had decided that there was no use in worrying. Because there is always something to worry about, it only keeps you from being happy.

And her mother's worry now was the best proof that what Louisa had told Elizabeth a couple of months earlier in London was true.

That you never stop worrying about your children, no matter how old they get.

...

AN: Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing!

Childbirth was a real threat to the mother's life in those days in England (and every other country, I think.)

For the convenience of my English-speaking readers - or rather my not-Swedish-understanding ones - I will translate any conversations between Elizabeth and her mother into English.


	47. Lovemaking in Sweden

George Kempell arrived in Stockholm from London early in November 1827. He was on his first foreign assignment, a rather lowly post at the British legation. He was only twenty-two at the time, fresh from university.

George found Stockholm in November very bleak. The town was small and dirty, the days were short, the weather was bad. November in Stockholm was just as rainy and gloomy as November in London usually is. Stockholm was much darker, though, the sun went down around three in the afternoon and didn't come up again until after eight in the morning, leaving no more than seven hours of very shallow daylight.

No wonder there were so many drunks in the streets!

The days were of course shorter in London also during autumn and winter, although not quite as short as in Stockholm. But London was a real city, so it was better lit up, with more street-lights than in Stockholm that was really not much more than a small town.

In autumn and winter the days were short in Sweden but in the summer it was the other way around. George would find out later that the short and light summer-nights in the end of June and the beginning of July would make it impossible to sleep. But by then he already had a warm and loving wife in his bed, so he didn't care so much about sleep. Neither did anyone else in Sweden it seemed. George was told that a high percentage of all Swedish children were born in March or April, nine months after those long and light summer nights.

Emilia was warm and loving, but in July 1828 she was also heavily pregnant. In the end of July she gave birth to Elizabeth, a few weeks earlier than was expected. It all went well, though, the girl was healthy, the mother had an easy delivery and the parents were both overjoyed about their new little girl.

But none of that was going to happen until much later on.

...

In November everything in Stockholm was new to George. The town, the people there and that strange-sounding foreign language that he didn't understand a single word of. He was also new to the responsibilities of having a job. It was all of it quite an adventure, he thought.

To Emilia, George Kempell himself was quite an adventure.

When Emilia Gyllenstråk met George Kempell at that ball in Stockholm she was twenty years old and considered a great beauty. She was very blond and very blue-eyed and quite tall for a woman. She was also very sure of her own worth, being the spoilt baby-sister in a family where the only other children were two boys who were already fifteen and thirteen years old when Emilia was born.

Emilia was very much looking for adventure and entertainment, not taking many things in life seriously. She loved dancing and she loved parties. She loved flirting, but she had never been seriously in love.

George Kempell was enchanted by Emilia from the very beginning. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and he was also charmed by her easy and confident manners. But George was still very young and his salary was not really enough to live on even for an unmarried man, let alone a family. So he had no intention to marry Emilia. Not her, nor anyone else.

There were also reasons that George definitely didn't want to marry a Swedish girl. It was not because of the difficulties with the language, but because he had been told things about Swedish girls. How loose they were, how easy it was to get beneath their skirts. That was not the kind of wife he wanted to have.

But he didn't object to having some fun.

...

Before George left London, a friend of his had told him a lot of curious things about Sweden and the Swedes. The friend had a brother who knew a man who had visited Stockholm for some weeks a number of years ago.

George was told that the Swedes had the strange idea that you should try out in beforehand if there were to be any children. That was extra important when there was something to inherit. Once the woman got pregnant, the couple got married. If the woman didn't get pregnant, the couple split up so they could both try their luck elsewhere. Very practical perhaps, George thought, but wasn't it a little cynical also?

There was no need to pay for pleasure girls in Stockholm, George's friend had said. Every young woman there would lift up her skirts without much persuasion. So why pay for a thing you can have for free? Wink, wink.

George had been told that more than a third of the children in Stockholm were born out-of-wedlock. No wonder, perhaps, with that kind of free habits.

...

Emilia and George spoke French to each other, the language of love. Sweden had a French King at the time - one of the old marshals of the French emperor Napoleon, who had changed sides at the right moment - but the aristocracy in Sweden had been able to speak French long before that.

George didn't know any Swedish, Emilia only knew a few words in English. But they both spoke French fairly well, and maybe speaking in a foreign language made them a little bolder than they would otherwise have been.

The first time he kissed her, she didn't know if she ought to stop him. Was it kissing that could make you with child? No, it couldn't be, could it? People were constantly kissing each other, even parents kissing their children.

She didn't want to stop him either. She had fallen in love with him, and he tasted so incredibly good. So they kept kissing each other, sneaking away into niches and spare rooms and out on balconies during balls. This was so incredibly wonderful, Emilia thought, hearing him whisper words of love in broken French, kissing him and caressing him. He was so beautiful, blue eyes, light brown hair and the most wonderful smile.

...

Several weeks later George invited Emilia to the room he was renting. It was early December by then, and the days were even shorter, only about six hours long. But December wasn't as dark as November had been thanks to all the snow that lay everywhere and lighted up the day and even the night. George didn't know if these amounts of snow were a curse or a blessing, but it was certainly interesting. Snow in London usually melted away while it was falling, or at least within a day or two. Here it wasn't expected to disappear until March.

George had bought some vine and cakes for him and Emilia to eat. They sat on his sofa, drinking vine and eating cakes, talking and laughing. George put little bits of cake into Emilia's mouth, urging her to drink more of the vine. Emilia laughed when he started kissing her, she was feeling light-headed, perhaps she had had to much vine. Her head was spinning and her breathing was getting ragged as he kissed her with more and more passion. He was much more ardent than he had ever been before, and she was getting more and more aroused.

So she didn't object when he lifted up her legs and put her down on her back on the sofa, placing himself on top of her. They kept kissing while his hands started moving. He was caressing her body, exploring it, all the time whispering words of love in French. A brief wonder if she ought to stop him ran through her muddled brain, but she couldn't keep that thought in her head long enough to act upon it. Besides, he loved her, he surely wouldn't do anything that would risk getting her in trouble, would he? She was sure he would want to protect her from any scandal.

And this was so wonderful, how could she stop something that she wanted so much?

He opened the few buttons on her blouse, pushing the layers of fabric aside. He was touching and kissing her naked breasts, telling her how wonderful and beautiful he thought she was. She was thoroughly aroused by now, she couldn't think, she couldn't breath, she couldn't speak. She could only gasp and moan while she hold on to him, the only fixed thing in this room where the walls and ceiling had slowly started spinning around.

She felt him lifting up her skirts, his mouth still at her breast. He softly put one hand between her legs, tentatively, as if he expected her to object. He held his hand still for a little while. But when she didn't do anything to hinder him, he started moving his hand, examining her female parts, coaxing her legs apart. She had no idea of what he was up to, but it was probably something that she ought to stop. But she was enjoying what he was doing, yearning for more, so she didn't really want him to stop.

Suddenly she felt him putting something else between her legs, something that was then slowly and steadily entering into her body. She understood that it was the part of him that she had sometimes felt through all their clothes, pressed against her when they kissed.

She felt a little twinge of pain as he entered into her, but it felt very good also. She liked the feeling of having him inside her. But she was fairly certain that this was something her parents would disapprove of very strongly if they knew.

Part of her still wanted to stop him, but part of her didn't want to stop him at all. He was kissing her mouth again and moving there between her legs. Their breathing was getting heavier and instead of objecting she moved with him, putting her legs around his back, pressing him further into her, feeling more and more aroused.

Afterwards, when they were trying to get their breathing back to normal, he was telling her how wonderful she had been and how very much he loved her. He was talking both French and English, in a strange mixture. Emilia had started to understand a little more English by now, after being with him for so many weeks.

That was the beginning of Emilia's first pregnancy.

Elizabeth was conceived that day, and none of her parents were going to be happy about it. At least not to begin with.

...

George had no intention of marrying Emilia when he followed her home that day after taking her virginity. But he was very surprised - and truth be told not really happily so - that she even had a virginity left for him to take. It made him feel that he had taken advantage of her, that he had done something bad. But she hadn't objected, she hadn't tried to stop him in any way, she had more or less spurred him on, so he had thought that she must surely have done this many times before with somebody else.

But now he thought that she perhaps had expected the relationship with him to be a little more than just a casual adventure. Perhaps she was taking all his words of love far more seriously than they were intended. Well, he didn't exactly lie either, he really did think that she was beautiful and wonderful.

George was also beginning to fall more and more in love with this Swedish girl and her fearless ways. He was even more in love with her now than before they had made love, strange as that seemed to him. He loved her self-assurance, she didn't look down and blush when talking to him, like many aristocratic English women would have done. He had enjoyed very much to make love to her, and wouldn't mind doing it again - or rather - he wouldn't mind doing it time and time again.

But he had never intended this affair with her to be anything but an adventure. And, as we know, he couldn't afford to marry.

...

On their way back to her home, Emilia was chatting along quite happily. She wasn't at all embarrassed about what had happened between the two of them as far as he could see. But she did look a little thoughtful.

"What was that we were doing?" she suddenly blurted out. "Those things we were doing on your sofa?" She was smiling at him, but her words got him quite off his balance.

She hadn't understood what they were doing!

When she saw how crestfallen her words had made him look, she quickly added: "Please, my darling, don't get me wrong! I enjoyed it, it was very nice. But it is such a very strange thing to do, isn't it?"

She was still smiling at him. But he felt awful. He had taken her virginity, and she hadn't even understood what he was doing!

And now _she_ was comforting _him_.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for reviewing!

A third of the newborn children in Stockholm were actually born out-of-wedlock in 1817. This story is set a decade later, but I doubt that much had changed by then.


	48. Interlude: Sir Anthony, 1920, earlier

Sir Anthony Strallan had been utterly surprised when his butler brought him the post two days after he had written to Lady Edith telling her that he couldn't see her any longer. He had perhaps expected a letter from _her._ But what he got was a letter from her father, Lord Grantham himself.

He was even more surprised after reading the letter. Lord Grantham had actually written to Sir Anthony to ask him to come back! He had written that he was sorry about what he had said to Anthony that night in the library at Downton Abbey and would be honoured if Sir Anthony would accept to come to that party after all.

Honoured! What had happened? Anthony couldn't make heads or tails out of it. But it seemed that Lord Grantham had thought the whole thing over and decided that Anthony wasn't such a bad choice for Edith after all. At least he had the means to provide for her, and also, since they were neighbours, the Earl would have his daughter nearby. Better than married to a former servant on Ireland, perhaps. Maybe his wife had influenced Robert also. Anthony knew that Lady Grantham had been a close friend of his sister Emilia when Emilia lived in Ripon. He also knew that Cora liked Anthony himself far better than Robert did.

Sir Anthony accepted the invitation, of course he did. It would have been rude to say no when Lord Grantham had taken the trouble to write especially to invite him back.

But there was a giant step between going to a party and starting to court Lady Edith again. Even if Robert accepted Anthony as a possible son-in-law, Anthony could still not accept himself as a possible husband to Lady Edith. He loved her too much for that.

He was going to be strong. He would talk to her and laugh with her and enjoy her company, but that was all he would do. Besides, at a formal dinner party there wouldn't be any opportunities for the two of them to be alone together.

...

When he came back from the party at Downton Abbey he wondered what had happened. Had he actually proposed to Lady Edith Crawley? He asked his butler to bring some tea. He didn't need a nightcap, he needed to sober up.

It had been the strangest dinner party he had ever attended.

What was it that had happened? It was all a little muddled in his brain, but he remembered enjoying himself very much and being utterly happy. Something had gone wrong in the kitchen apparently, and Edith's American grandmother had suggested that the formal party should be changed into a picnic.

Anthony remembered sitting on the floor in a room of Downton that he had never been in before, eating cold meat and cheese and fruit. Edith had been sitting at his side on a low stool, holding a wine-bottle, filling his glass as soon as it was empty. He was a big man and could usually drink a lot without feeling any effects, but now he was intoxicated by the combined effect of wine and the adoring looks from the most wonderful woman in the world.

He remembered the singing later on, how Edith's American grandmother, who was so different from her English one, was playing on the piano. He remembered how he had stood very close to Edith and looked down at her lovely frame, singing 'Let me call you sweet-heart!' with absolute sincerity. 'I'm in love with you.'

Then they had ended up together in that room again, just the two of them and a new bottle of wine. This time they were both sitting on that stool, close together. Talking and laughing. And then he had proposed to her.

Or had he really proposed? Well he must have. Because Edith had answered yes.

But what he had said himself was all muddled in his brain. Something about him wanting to call her his sweet-heart for the rest of his life. Something like 'could she really seriously consider marrying an old codger like him'.

Well, whatever he had asked her, she had answered yes and let out a happy squeal. And then he had put his arm around her and kissed her. For the first, wonderful time. And the second time, which was even better. And the third...

His brain was already clearer when they were back in the dining-room a little later, so he asked her if she was sure she wouldn't regret this later on. But after that he told her that she had given him back his life. Which was so true. He had been so happy.

He had promised to come back in the morning to tell her family. That wouldn't be easy, he knew.

Well, he had decided to be strong that evening and he had been weaker than the weakest little boy. He definitely needed to sober up.

**...**

When only two weeks were left to their wedding Sir Anthony was getting more and more worried. He had to stop this before it was too late. He had tried, he had tried almost every time they were alone. He had tried to tell her that this wasn't such a good idea. But she had brushed it all aside, smiling, making him drown in her eyes. She was such a beauty, he just couldn't resist her.

Mostly it had ended in kisses instead. Which of course made it still more difficult to do the right thing next time they were alone together.

...

Sir Anthony was much older now than he had been when he married Maud. He was also a different person than he had been then, he had lost so much of his self-confidence. The war and his injury had left him feeling ten or perhaps even twenty years older than he actually was.

During the first months of Sir Anthony's marriage to Maud, he had felt like he was walking on clouds. The warmth of her body... Her eagerness... Her brown eyes that he almost drowned in...

He had thought about Maud constantly. He had either been in bed with her or thinking about what it was like. What they had done the last time. What they would do the next time.

He smiled now at the memory of their wedding trip. Going through the great capitals of Europe and hardly seeing anything but the inside of hotel-rooms. If they had decided to go somewhere they hadn't dared touch each other in the hotel room, because if they did, they would only end up making love, missing the dinner or the opera or the sight or whatever it was.

Sometimes they hadn't even tried. What is a Dome compared to the soft feeling of human skin beneath your palms and fingers? Is there a better way to worship the wonders and miracles of nature?

Anthony had been twenty-one when they married and never been with a woman in the physical way before. His father had been very emphatic when he had told his son never to go to a prostitute. It was a disgrace, those poor girls lived terrible lives. He had also told him to keep his hands off the girls among the servants and in the tenants' families. He didn't want his young son to cause a scandal or get some poor girl into trouble.

Anthony had done as he was told, briefly wondering but not asking what his father had done himself with that need before he met and married Anthony's mother at the mature age of forty-six. It is not the kind of question a sixteen-year-old would ask his father, Anthony felt embarrassed to have this conversation at all.

...

Anthony and Maud had behaved like rabbits on their honey-moon, there was no more polite way to put it. And it was exactly what he had needed at the time.

He had needed love.

He had needed the physical love of a woman, of course he had. But he had also needed someone to love him with the kind of love that consists of caring and fondness. He had lost both his parents within a year, and he wasn't in the centre of anyone's universe any longer. He still had his sister who loved him, of course, but she lived in York and had her own children to take care of.

So Anthony had needed someone who wanted to spend time with him, someone who found him interesting, someone who loved him as the person he was. Someone who laughed at his jokes, someone who joked to make him laugh. Someone to talk with about serious things. Someone sharing his interest in books and opera music and engine mechanics. Maud had provided him with all of this. Theirs had been the perfect match.

Well, to be honest, Maud had never taken much interest in engines and farm mechanisation, but he could live with that. Not even his own mother, who seemed to know things about almost everything, had been interested in that. It had been entirely his father's department. As far as he knew, Anthony had never known a woman who was interested in engines and mechanisation.

Not until he got to know Lady Edith Crawley, that is.

...

If the kind of wedding trip Anthony had with Maud was what Edith expected, he was certain that it would be impossible to live up to. Besides, his priorities had changed, he wouldn't mind seeing a bit of Rome and Florence and Venice. If they would do nothing except make love, they could as well stay at Locksley.

Edith was even younger now than Maud had been when she married Anthony. What Edith needed was a young chap, as Anthony had told her so many times. Someone like the Anthony Strallan that had married Maud, young and sure of himself, always ready to please his lady.

Not like the Anthony Strallan that he was today.

That was one of the reasons why it was impossible to marry Edith. What if she was as demanding as Maud had been? He would never be able to live up to that. He wasn't twenty-one any longer and though the heart never gets older the body does. She was bound to become terribly disappointed with him.

He loved Edith, of course he did, he loved her to distraction, and these things hadn't worried him before the war. He was only six years older now than when he had courted Lady Edith and planned to propose to her on that garden party. But those had been six terrible years. On top of that, he also had his injury.

...

Maud had been a singer at the Opera, not really the kind of woman a gentleman should marry. But when he met her she was the widow of a doctor, a late colleague of his sister Emilia's husband. She had been eleven years older than Anthony. Her husband, Herbert, who had been much older than her, had died very suddenly in a heart-attack just a year earlier. They had had a happy marriage, and Maud was devastated when he died. She had also been quite certain that she would never want to marry anyone else. Herbert had been the only one for her. Or so she had thought.

Anthony had never heard Maud say a bad word about Herbert. Not ever.

Anthony had actually seen Maud on stage, but only once. He was only eleven years old at the time, but he was tall and could behave and looked almost like sixteen, so his kind parents had let him come with them to the Opera to see Carmen. With all the ardour of an eleven-year-old he had fallen in love with that beautiful dark-eyed singer with the wonderful voice.

He had met her again at his sister's dinner-party, when he was twenty years old. He had fallen in love with her as soon as he looked into those dark brown eyes. Afterwards he had tried to meet her again, going to visit his sister in York many more times than he usually did. But he never saw Maud there.

So he started sending her notes of love, begging her to meet him again. At first she declined politely: "Dear Sir Anthony! I regret it is quite impossible for me to see you."

Then she declined it a little less politely: "You silly boy, can't you see that I am far too old for you?"

And then - at last - she agreed to see him. "Alright then, you can come and see me, but only so I can tell you to your face that this is of no use."

He wondered about his self-assurance at the time, pursuing an eleven years older woman like that. A widow at that, who must know much more about the physical aspect of love than he did himself. But he had made up his mind and then he had acted upon it. Just the way his father had told him that _he_ had done when he had seen Anthony's mother for the first time on a ball in London in 1863.

After they met again not even Maud could deny that they were meant for each other. Not after Anthony had kissed her. He had dared to do that because he had seen in her eyes as soon as they met that she loved him just as much as he loved her.

It was not until Maud sang some lines of an opera to him some weeks later that he understood that this widow of a doctor was the same person as that singer at the Opera. She had been wearing so much make-up then, and it was so many years ago. But the voice was unmistakable.

So he told her that he had been in love with her since he was eleven. She only laughed at that, calling him a silly boy again.

Yes, he had loved Maud. He had been so very happy with her. Except for the miscarriages.

There had been twelve miscarriages in all during their ten years of marriage. The full pregnancy that finally killed her was number thirteen. Numbers kept sticking in his head, and he couldn't stop counting, he had that from his mother.

...

After all these years that night was still almost too painful to think about.

He remembered how Maud had slipped away in a sea of blood, just after giving birth to their little son. She had a smile on her face after hearing the boys first cry. It had taken Anthony many long minutes before he realised that she was actually gone.

Anthony remembered how the doctor had placed the little boy in Anthony's arms. How Anthony had sat there forever with the little one, beside the bed with Maud's dead body, promising Maud to take well care of their son, promising his son to tell him all about that wonderful mother he would never have a chance to know.

Suddenly the Reverend had arrived and asked Anthony what the boy should be called.

"Thomas Jonathan", Anthony had told him. Maud's father's name and his own father's name, just like they had agreed upon if the child was a boy. Then the Reverend had christened little Thomas Jonathan Strallan quickly, before he gave him back to Anthony again.

When the sun went up Anthony had stood with his son in his arms by the window, looking out over his estate.

"My darling son!" he said softly to the baby. "All this is going to be yours."

But that sunrise was to be the only sunrise in the little boy's life. His breathing had kept getting fainter until it stopped completely about an hour later. Anthony had let out the cry that had been building up inside him all from the moment he had realised that Maud was dead. He had held it back for all these hours not to disturb his little son, but there was no need for that any longer.

Afterwards, Anthony understood that the doctor had realised after a quick examination that the child had no chances to live. That was why he had just let Anthony hold him.

A week later Maud had been buried with her little son in her arms.

When he stood at Maud's and little Thomas' grave, Anthony had decided never to marry again. There was no one like Maud, there never could be.

And what he had gone through a week before was much too painful to ever risk going through again.

...

AN: Thank you for reading and reviewing! Please let me know what you think!

I have been away for just a few days and come back to three new Edith/Anthony stories and so many updates of old favourites that I don't know how I will have time to catch up. I'm happy! The new one by Spotted Horse is - appropriately enough - no 150 of the E/A-stories.

I publish this before I start reading, so my inferiority complex won't have time to kick in.


	49. A Strange Wedding

Emilia Kempell, Elizabeth's mother, knew that it was dangerous to keep girls in the dark about the details of human reproduction. She knew this from her own experience.

So when Elizabeth, and later Celia and Christin, were about fifteen years old, their mother told her girls about how children were made, telling them that it was something they should never allow a man to do to them before they were married. Elizabeth already knew the basic facts from the biology books, and didn't really want to talk about this with her mother. Mainly because Elizabeth knew her parent's wedding day and her own birthday, and she had learnt about the length of a woman's pregnancy in that biology book. Even if Elizabeth's mother had told her that she had been born a few weeks prematurely, it was more than obvious that her mother hadn't headed her own advice. _She_ hadn't waited until she was married.

Elizabeth hoped to avoid discussing that embarrassing fact with her mother. It was not the kind of discussion a fifteen year old girl would want to have with her mother, however close they were to each other.

Elizabeth couldn't help wonder if she was ever ment to be born. Would her parents have married if it hadn't been for her? Her parents had a happy marriage as far as she could see, so perhaps there was no use to dwell upon this. But was her mother so anxious for her daughters not to get pregnant out-of-wedlock, because she herself had felt forced to marry someone she didn't really want? Those questions were, of course, impossible to ask.

**...  
**

During the next few weeks after he had made love to Emilia Gyllenstråk, George Kempell was both worrying that he had landed her in trouble and trying to get a new chance to do so. Several times he invited Emilia to come to his room again. But she always declined, she only wanted to see him in public, and quite obviously avoided being alone with him.

That day, after Emilia had asked George what it was they had been doing on his sofa, he had burst out into some kind of random rambling:

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I thought you knew! Otherwise I wouldn't have done it. But don't worry, I was so careful, getting it out before...! I'm sure it won't lead to anything. Or perhaps... no it just can't! Please don't be angry with me! I wish I hadn't done it! But it was wonderful! I love you so much! It was wonderful, but I really shouldn't have done it, I'm so sorry...I really hope it won't..."

That didn't exactly answer Emilia's question, but it did get her worrying.

So Emilia had asked around among her friends. After that she was fairly sure that what she and George had been doing could easily give her big problems. The kind of problems that first make your belly bigger and later keep you awake through the night. And causes a scandal in between, possibly making your parents throw you out on the street. So however much she longed to be with George in that way again - it _had_ been very nice - she just didn't dare to.

It took Emilia some weeks to realise that the damage was already done. Seeing Emilia's worried face, it took her mother just one more day after that to realise the same thing.

So Emilia, who was used to run around freely, following her own whims, was subjected to a severe questioning. Her parents had noticed the young diplomat's interest in their daughter. But they were shocked to hear that he and their daughter had gone this far without any understanding at all between them about the future.

Emilia didn't blame George, she had wanted to do this herself. He hadn't forced her.

"It was very good, I enjoyed it", she said with a defiant smile, which could easily have earned her a spanking if she had been a couple of years younger or had less indulgent parents. "He is a kind man and I love him."

She told her parents that she hadn't known that she had risked getting with child by doing it, but perhaps she ought to have understood that. She loved George very much, and would like to marry him, but he hadn't asked her. Actually, the word marriage had never entered into their conversation during all the weeks they had been together.

For all Emilia knew, he could be married to someone else already. Perhaps he had a wife in England.

...

Emilia's father, Henrik Gyllenstråk, was in a rage when he went to see George Kempell in his home later that same day. George felt embarrassed to meet this very upset man, whose daughter he had seduced on that very same sofa where he offered the father to sit down. George also felt quite a bit scared of this very tall, blond Swede. Henrik was no doubt a descendant to the old Vikings that had ransacked George's country many hundred years ago. He looked capable of resorting to violence, and though the man was much older than George, he was quite a bit bigger and probably also stronger.

Emilia's father didn't know much English, so this conversation was also held in French. But this time French was definitely not the language of love.

"It seems that you have got my daughter with child", Henrik began, getting straight to the point. "I can't tell you how despicable I think it is to seduce a young girl like that. I ought to give you a good thrashing, but that wouldn't make things better. But I must insist that you marry her."

George's first impulse was to deny it all. His second was to say that it could equally well have been someone else who was the father of Emilia's child. But he supressed both these impulses. He felt quite guilty about getting Emilia into trouble. He had taken her virginity, she wasn't a fallen woman. Well, not before she met him at least. Besides, making love to her had been so sweet, and he longed very much to be able to do it again.

"I'm sorry about it all, but I can't marry her", George said, trying to look more remorseful than he felt.

"Why not? You aren't married I hope, because then I would have to..." Henrik looked very angry, it was more and more obvious to George that this was a case where his diplomatic immunity would be of no help.

"No, no, I am not married", he said hurriedly.

"Well, that is at least something. Good! I hope we can sort this out then," Henrik said, a little bit calmer now.

But George still couldn't afford marrying, and he told Henrik so. He said that he was sorry about it all, that he was sure he was the father of the child Emilia was expecting and that he really wanted to protect both Emilia and that little one. He said that he was very fond of Emilia, she was a wonderful girl, he did love her.

But he just couldn't afford to marry her, not for many years to come. He told Emilia's father exactly how little he earned, and that his parents had many children and no more money to give him after supporting him through university. He lived in this small room without a kitchen, taking all his meals from restaurants. This was not the kind of life to share with an expecting mother. If they would both try to live on his salary, they would both have to starve.

Henrik thought that his daughter ought to have chosen someone more suitable to be seduced by, someone who could afford to marry her. But it was too late to change that. At least the man wasn't married to someone else.

There was, of course, only one solution to this problem. George and Emilia _had_ to marry, so Emilia's family had to support them. After a lengthy discussion, Henrik promised to get his daughter and future son-in-law a home and also settle a bit of extra income on Emilia. And George agreed, without too much reluctance, to marry her.

"I'm glad you didn't call me out for a duel", George said just before they parted. "But perhaps you don't have that custom in Sweden."

Henrik Gyllenstråk gave him a very long, contemptuous glance.

"You are lucky I didn't", he said. "I would have, but there is no point in it. You wouldn't be able to marry her if I killed you."

...

The wedding took place in Stockholm of course, and as soon as it was at all possible, waiting only for the bans to be read. It was a Swedish wedding, done in that peculiar Swedish way, where the bride and groom arrive in church together, walking up the aisle side by side, like equals. Not like it ought to be, according to George Kempell's belief, with the groom waiting at the altar and the bride handed over as a gift from the father-in-law to the son-in-law. Or perhaps as a responsibility - now it is your turn to provide for her!

But luckily those strange Swedish wedding customs were purely symbolical, perhaps a remnant from the days of the Vikings, when the wife had some real power, being in charge of the household and the farming while her husband was away ransacking innocent people most of the year. George was to become his wife's guardian when they married, just like her father was her guardian until then. So the giving away ceremony would have been highly appropriate.

Emilia didn't promise to obey George when they married, though. The Swedish marriage ceremony never contained this very useful idea. Swedish men must be terribly henpecked, George thought. Was he making a mistake after all, marrying this Swedish girl? But he didn't have much choice, after all. And he was longing very much to take Emilia to bed again, he had hardly been allowed to touch her since that day when their child was conceived.

The whole ceremony was in Swedish. George didn't understand a word of what he was agreeing to. They had translated it for him in beforehand of course - although he couldn't be sure that they had done it correctly. They had also told him where to say "ja", which was the Swedish for yes.

There were also some short wedding vows in Swedish, mainly containing the names of the bride and groom, which George was to repeat after the parson. The biggest problem with that was that Emilia had difficulties to keep from laughing at the way George pronounced the Swedish words. One could perhaps have expected her to behave a little better, considering the sacrifices he was making for her.

Or was it sacrifices?

Emilia's father had bought a home for his daughter and son-in-law, with a couple of bedrooms, a nursery, a kitchen, a diningroom and a salon. Not great but decent. Henrik also paid the wages for a cook and a maid during the four years George was still posted in Stockholm. That was in addition to the extra income he had settled on his daughter.

It was not until George got promoted to a higher post in London that he was finally able to provide for his growing family himself.

In fact George Kempell was rather pleased with the arrangements. It was much nicer to have a real home to live in. His wife was warm and affectionate and had the cutest foreign accent when she was talking English to him. His newborn daughter was an absolute little darling, sweet and happy and smiling. She cried very much less than infants generally do. And the year after George also got a son. What more could a man wish for?

It proved good for his diplomatic career also, to have a special relationship to the Swedish aristocracy. Emilia explained things he found strange to him, and he soon got known at the legation as an expert in Swedish customs. Which probably got him his promotion to a post at the Foreign Office in London - where he would have much less use for his knowledge of Sweden and his contacts there - a year or two earlier than he otherwise would.

All this he had got from having a romp on the sofa with one of those loose Swedish girls he had been told about. Not a bad award for something that had been thoroughly enjoyable to begin with!

...

George Kempell didn't know what Emilia's father would have done to Emilia if George had refused to marry her. Perhaps he would have thrown her out of their home. But he probably wouldn't have done that, because Henrik obviously loved his wayward daughter, and wanted to protect her as much as was at all possible.

On the other hand, George didn't know what Emilia's father would have done to _George _if he had refused to marry Emilia. And he really had no wish whatsoever to find that out.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you for all lovely reviews!

I don't know if a Swedish marriage involving a British citizen would be valid in England at the time. I don't want to look further into this, it is only boring and doesn't add anything to the story. Lets just say that Elizabeth's parents did what they had to do in order to have their marriage legalized in both countries.


	50. Christmas at Locksley

AN: Some snowy Christmas fluff to keep you cool through the hot days of summer. (Or perhaps it's cool where you are? At least it is rather hot here, for a change.)

...

On the third of January in the year of 1864, Lady Elizabeth Strallan was sitting in the library at Locksley, admiring her husband who was working at his table. She had a big smile on her face, as she thought back on what must have been the best Christmas of her entire grownup life, and she was already thirty-five. Elizabeth's family had left now, all of them going back to their own homes in London, but the memories of this Christmas would keep her happy for a long time, she knew that.

It had been so nice to have all her family gathered around her. All the Kempells were celebrating Christmas together for the first time in many, many years. There had been fewer and fewer members of the family attending their Christmases in India during the two decades they lived there. All the boys had been sent away to school and then they stayed on in London to make a living for themselves. After that they got married. The last few years there had only been five people from their family celebrating Christmas in India, Elizabeth herself, her parents and her two younger sisters.

The heat in India had never really felt like Christmas to Elizabeth. She had spent her first few Christmases in Stockholm, the capital of Sweden, where it was cold and snowy. That was the way a real Christmas should be, Elizabeth thought. Her Swedish mother thought so too, of course, and never failed to point that out when they celebrated Christmas during the hot December days of India.

It had been wonderful to have her family there with her in her new home, Elizabeth thought. She was also happy that they had all got along so well with Jonathan and liked him so much. No surprise, perhaps, Jonathan was kind and funny and friendly. Elizabeth's mother had told her daughter that she thought she had found a wonderful husband, the best one possible. Elizabeth smiled at the thought. She always wanted her mother to approve of what she did.

But the best thing of all that had happened that Christmas took place early on the morning of Christmas Day, and the only two people involved were Jonathan and herself. It had been an enchanted morning, full of wonders and marvels. A real Christmas morning.

And the greatest wonder of them all for Elizabeth was that he was there with her.

...

Jonathan woke Elizabeth up long before dawn on that Christmas Day. But instead of kissing her, as she had perhaps expected, he reached for her slippers and put them on her feet.

"I want to show you your Christmas present now", he whispered. Then he lead her to the window.

She was stunned. The world had changed while she was asleep. The sky was deep black without a single cloud. The stars were bright. The ground was covered with a thick layer of pure white snow. The view outside the window looked like it was taken directly from a fairy tale.

"Did you do this for me?" she asked incredulously, obviously still half asleep. "Just like Christmas in Stockholm. Where did you get all the snow?"

"I wish I had done it, but it just happened", he said with a smile and a loving glance at her. "Oh, Elizabeth, of course I didn't do it! Do you think I can affect the weather?"

"Yes, I'm sure you can, there is no one like you. You would do anything to please me. And you told me you would show me my Christmas present, so I thought this was it", she said, but her smile showed him that she understood now how impossible it would have been.

He laughed at her, thinking that he would like to take her to bed right now. But he didn't have time, he had to show her the gift before the rest of the house got up for breakfast. That special Christmas gift which had cost her so much heartache and agony. He hoped she would be pleased with it, but the snow was really a problem. Because the gift was out there, so they would have to plod through the snow, which looked like it was at least a foot deep.

"You have to put on some clothes, but no crinoline", he told her. "Just some really warm underwear, and then you can put your thickest coat over that. You can't walk through the snow with a crinoline. You can dress properly when we are back in here again. And you will need high boots."

This was sounding more and more like an adventure to Elizabeth. Like sneaking out early and playing in the snow with Henrik, as she had done sometimes in Stockholm when she was little.

"Wait a minute, you can borrow a pair of my trousers, that will keep you warm. You are so tall, it will probably be alright."

He handed her a pair, and she put them on over her woollen underwear. They were a bit too short for her, and in spite of her pregnancy they were also a bit too wide at the waist. With a belt fastened above her still very small protruding tummy and the too wide and too short legs of the trousers she looked like a London street urchin.

"You look gorgeous whatever you wear", he said with admiration in his voice. "Now, let's try to sneak out without being noticed."

He suppressed an urge to abandon the whole expedition and take her to bed instead. There was something alluring in having her wearing his trousers, much more so than having her wearing his shirt, which she sometimes did, grabbing the nearest garment to go to the wash-room when she was naked in bed.

It was only four o'clock in the morning, and if it hadn't been for the snow it would probably have been pitch dark outside. Jonathan was carrying a lantern as he opened the door to the tool-shed to take out a shovel.

"So, where do we go?" Elizabeth asked. She really liked wearing trousers, it was nice with clothes that didn't hinder your stride. She hated the crinolines. Why couldn't women wear something sensible, like this, it would be so much more comfortable? She could walk much faster dressed like this, and she was also warmer. This time of the year it was difficult to stop cold air from coming in under the skirts.

But perhaps that was just it, women were not supposed to be able to move around freely. They were expected to be uncomfortable and helpless. They were supposed to hardly be able to breathe in their tight-laced corsets.

...

"It is up there, on the small hill", Jonathan said. "I have made you a little house."

"A summer-house!" Elizabeth exclaimed with delight when she saw the small building. She saw it for the first time now, the place was not far from their house but it had been covered with tarpaulins for the last two months or so. Now there was a thick layer of snow on the roof of the little house.

"It isn't really a summer-house, it's a winter house", Sir Jonathan said with a broad smile. "Or a house for whatever season you like. I'll show you when we get there."

They climbed the small hill together, plodding through the snow. The little hill was one of the spots at Locksley with the best view over the surrounding landscape.

"Georgina Jarvis gave me the idea, that was what we were talking about that time when you got so sad, the secret I wouldn't tell you. But now you know. She said that when you have a little baby or a small child it is not so easy to walk around everywhere. So it is nice to have a little summer-house to sit in when it rains. Or just to have somewhere to go that isn't too far off."

"So that was what you were doing up there!" Elizabeth said with a small hint of irritation. "You said it was some tryout of new farming equipment! I think you know me too well, you know exactly what to say to make me lose interest completely. I haven't even thought of going up there in all this time, I didn't want to disturb the people I saw working there."

"I wasn't really lying, either", Jonathan said with a new broad smile. "Because we did try out some new tools and some new building techniques when we made this little house."

...

"I told Georgina some months ago that I find it difficult to choose gifts for you", Jonathan said later that day. "That's when she came up with this wonderful idea. And after that I made a drawing for it together with Jonson, our carpenter. It has taken many weeks to build, I'm so glad that you liked it."

At first all Elizabeth could answer to that was: "Oh!"

But then she said: "Liked it! I didn't like it, I loved it! I must remember to thank Lady Georgina for giving you the idea. And you are the most wonderful man in the whole world and I have done nothing whatsoever to deserve you."

"Done nothing!" he said in disbelief. "Don't you remember what you have in that cute little belly of yours? You are about to give me the most wonderful gift I will ever receive."

"Yes, perhaps, but I'm doing that for myself as well as for you. And you have done your part to let me have this baby, by marrying me and loving me."

Then she added, after some moments of thought: "I'm not difficult to please, I honestly don't think I am. I love all the gifts you have ever given to me."

"But you didn't let me buy anything for you at that jeweler's shop in Paris", he grumbled.

"That was different, it wasn't a gift you had thought out, you just wanted to spend money on me. You had already bought me so many things on that trip, and I really wanted to go and get some books. Honestly, Jonathan, I don't think I'm fussy. And I really appreciate all the things you are doing for me. You are a wonderful man and I love you so very much."

...

When they got up to the house Elizabeth held the lantern while Jonathan used the shovel to take away the snow outside the door of the house. He usually had people doing things for him, but he wasn't afraid of work. He didn't think it below his dignity to help his employees or tenants out now and then when it was necessary with an extra pair of hands and he happened to be present.

After he had taken away the snow he opened the door and held it out for her as they entered the house.

"I wanted to give you a special Christmas gift this first year of our marriage", he said softly, as he closed the door behind them. "Because I know you have given up much more to marry me than I have given up to marry you."

"How can you say that when every single thing I eat and all new things I wear is provided by you?"

"That is not the point. You have given up living with your family, I know how much they mean to you. And you have moved here with me, giving me everything. I live like I always have done, only so much better because I have you to keep me company and make love to me."

"It is you who have given me everything!" she answered with a mischievous laugh. "I'm even wearing your trousers now!"

...

The house was only lit up by the lantern that Elizabeth put down on a little table while Jonathan lighted the fire that he had asked one of the servants to put into the stove in the middle of the octagonal building.

"You will be warm in here any time of the year", he said with a smile, obviously very pleased with himself. "It is very solidly built, not like those flimsy summer-houses most people have. This is a real house. As you know I think whatever is worth doing is worth doing well."

After that he started to describe all the marvellous things about the little house. It was built on a solid ground, just like a real house. It even had central heating, with radiators, which were a fairly recent invention.

There were eight windows in all, one in each wall. Four of them were covered by thick wooden shutters.

"This time of the year it is best to have them covered. But you can still look out in four directions. In spring you can have the shutters taken away and open the windows."

There was a small dinner-table with four chairs, and also couple of wicker-chairs and a sofa. This was a place were it was possible both to have a simple meal, to study and to relax. There was also a small book-shelf, but no books in it.

Elizabeth loved it all.

"I havent put in any cushions or blankets or curtains or suchlike. I think it is for you to decide what colours you want to have. And you can choose yourself what books to put in that bookshelf."

"I guess it will be children's books soon enough", Elizabeth said with a happy smile.

There was also a swing in there, or rather two swings. One was a usual swing for a bigger child or an adult. The other one was a little cradle, for the baby.

"When it get's big enough to sit up, we can exchange that for a small chair, with supports on all sides to prevent the child from falling out. We designed one of those also, but decided it was a little too early. It is a little too early for the cradle as well, of course, but soon..."

...

"Don't expect to get this kind of Christmas present every year", Jonathan said a little later, anxious not to disappoint her. "There is no way to keep up something like this. So I will probably just buy you a book or something like that for next Christmas."

"That will be very nice, I'm already looking forward to it. You know how much I love books. Besides, Christmas presents are mainly for children, aren't they? Next Christmas we will have a little child of our own to spoil. Isn't that marvellous? And we will still have this wonderful little house to go to."

So he bent forward and put his hands to her cheeks and kissed her, for the very first time in this enchanted place. There would be many more times for kisses there during all the happy years they had ahead of them.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Thank you so very much for the lovely comments!

...

The winter of 1863 to 1864 was really very severe in England. There were many heavy snowfalls in January of 1864. I have moved one of them to late Christmas Eve, 1863, for the sake of the story. I have no idea what the weather was really like that night.

...

I have borrowed the idea of a summer-house at Locksley from some other E/A-writer/writers. I hope it is alright!


	51. Christmas in Sweden

When Lady Elizabeth Strallan, Sir Anthony's mother, was thinking about what Christmas was like in Sweden, she was thinking about the Christmas of 1832 and perhaps also that of 1831. But when Elizabeth's father George thought about Christmas in Sweden, he was thinking about the Christmas of 1827, his first Christmas in Stockholm. Because it had been something of a shock for him.

...

A week before Christmas Eve, on the seventeenth of December, George had been visited by the furious Henrik Gyllenstråk. That visit was the one that had ended in George agreeing to marry Emilia and Henrik agreeing to pay most expenses for that family. Before that visit George didn't know that Emilia was expecting a baby.

A couple of days after Henrik Gyllenstråk's visit, when George had calmed down a little and also had time to think over both his own and Emilia's situation, as well as the baby's, he decided that he ought to ask Emilia herself if she really wanted to marry him. He found it wisest not to invite her to his home, he didn't want her to believe that he was only trying to get under her skirts again, nice as that would have been.

So George went to Emilia's home, and asked if he could see her in private. He was ushered into a small saloon, where he sat waiting with increasing trepidation for quite a long time.

Then Emilia entered the room. He could see at once that she wasn't happy. She looked as worried about seeing him as he was about seeing her. So he swiftly went across the floor, threw his arms around her, and held her like that for many minutes, without moving. He just wanted to comfort her. "Don't worry, my darling!" he whispered. "Everything will be alright."

After a while George let go of Emilia, and they both sat down on the sofa.

"Do you hate me?" George began with a worried look at Emilia.

"No, of course not!" Emilia said. "I love you. But I was afraid you hated me, for telling my father that it was you who did it."

"Well, what else could you have done? This won't go away. And it is my child just as much as yours."

Actually, in some strange way, George felt quite proud of himself for what he had done. He had managed to make his woman pregnant in the first go - actively trying to avoid it at that. He must be very fertile. Quite some man, he thought.

One of George's reasons for going to see Emilia was that he had decided to propose formally to her. He thought he owed her that. If she was going to become his wife, she had at least the right to have a proper proposal to look back on. They were going to live their whole lives together, he couldn't let her believe that he only married her because he was afraid of her father.

So George bent down on one knee beside the sofa, took one of Emilia's hands in his and said:

"Lady Emilia Gyllenstråk! Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

"I don't have much choice, have I", Emilia said with a smirk. "So, yes, of course. I'm glad you asked me. Thank you."

George finished his proposal with a very chaste kiss. He didn't dare to do more than that under Henrik Gyllenstråk's roof. Emilia was trying to smile at him, but he could see that she was still sad and worried.

"Life is full of mistakes", George said soothingly, stroking her cheek. "But if we don't make them, we wouldn't be alive. And perhaps this mistake is the best one either of us will ever make? I love you Emilia, and I am quite looking forward to having a little baby with you! I'm sure it will be a lovely child. The cutest little thing."

This time George had managed to say exactly the right thing. Much better than that stiff proposal of his.

Emilia's worried face split up in the most gorgeous smile of relief. Because she had spent the last few days worrying more and more about that poor little darling baby she had in her belly that nobody had wanted and no one had been happy about. Emilia had felt so sorry for the little one.

But now she knew her child's father would love it. As she herself had already started to do, more and more for each day that went by.

"I'm looking forward to it too", she said, smiling lovingly at George. "It will be quite an adventure! I guess we were wrong to do that, but I'm so happy that we did!"

...

Just as George was leaving, Emilia's mother came out into the hallway and invited him to spend Christmas Eve with his future wife's family. Christmas Eve is the most important day of Christmas for the Swedes, she explained to him, but he already knew that.

George couldn't well refuse, although he was a little afraid. Emilia's father had been rather intimidating, and George didn't really look forward to meeting her elder brothers. He was sure they were as angry with him as their father had been. Well, he couldn't really blame them, although he was feeling much better about himself now, after talking to Emilia.

Besides, he had heard people at the legation say that the traditional Swedish Christmas food was absolutely disgusting.

...

When George arrived to the Christmas celebrations at Emilia's home, both her brothers and their families were already there. They were both very large, even taller and broader than their father. Their wives were both rather short, much darker in colour than the Gyllenstråks and both from old Swedish aristocratic families, according to Emilia. The two brothers had seven children in all, all of them boys and somewhere between one and seven years old. They were not the most well-behaved children George had seen.

Emilia's father was much friendlier to George than he had been last time they met. The rest of the family was also very friendly, including the two big brothers. Perhaps they thought that it was too late to change anything, and George was at least doing the decent thing. They were going to be related, so they could as well be friends.

They started out with the Christmas dinner. The table was laden with food. There were meatballs, spare ribs, small sausages, larger sausages, blood sausage, pates, liverwurst. Piles of bread. Piles of butter. Cheese. Many kinds of fish, four or five dishes with pieces of raw herring in different kinds of sauces, smoked salmon. There was also some strange white fish that was almost transparent and didn't look or smell very tasty. Emilia said it was called 'lutfisk'.

But the place of honour on the diningroom table was taken up by the most gigantic ham that George had ever set eyes on. He wondered what a pig with a behind like that would have looked like.

The other end of the pig or one of its friends, the head, was also placed on the table. It was decorated with something white and red and there was an apple in its mouth. And on a plate nearby, George could also se the feet of the poor animal, or actually the feet of more than one pig.

George was placed beside Emilia at the table, of course, so she could help him by translating and also tell him how to eat the different kinds of food.

The maids brought in a gigantic pot, it was so big that it took two of them to carry it. It seemed to be no food in it, just some dirty water, but George's future brothers-in-law were full of enthusiasm when they saw the pot.

"That is 'dopp-i-grytan'", Emilia said to George. "Dip-in-the-pot. It's the water left after boiling the ham. You are supposed to put slices of bread in it and then fish them up with a slotted ladle and place them on your plate. They really get soaked, you have to eat them with knife and fork."

Emilia's brothers repeated that word a couple of times. Dopp-i-grytan, yeah, that is nice, they said, smiling at their wives, who were both smiling and blushing. Then the two brothers burst out laughing.

"What is so funny about that?" George asked Emilia.

Emilia thought for a while, she had never understood that joke before, although she heard it at Christmas every year. But now it suddenly dawned upon her.

"I think they are talking about the kind of thing that you and I did on your sofa that day", she whispered with an innocent smile. "What is between my legs is the pot, and that part of you, whatever you call it, is what is being dipped."

Then she added: "And that _is_ nice, really. Much better than that horrid wet bread."

...

The Christmas presents were distributed later on by a man dressed as a goat, probably one of the servants of the family. Each of the little boys got a couple of toys, the older ones also got a book each. There were many happy shouts when seven small boys were given so many new things to play with. The new toys had to be tried out at once, of course. Emilia's little nephews weren't the most patient of children.

...

Later the family started singing a song: "Drick ur ditt glas ty döden på dig väntar, slipar sin lie och på din tröskel står..."

"That means 'Empty your glass, because death is awaiting you", Emilia translated. "'Standing in your doorway sharpening his scythe'."

George was horrified.

"Do they mean that as a threat?"

"Of course not! It's just a song. They like you!"

George doubted that very much. After all he had ruined their darling little daughter and sister, and now he was going to parasitize on them during the forseeable future to be able to support her and their child.

...

Emilia told George that the song was written by the Swedish poet Carl Mikael Bellman, who had died some thirty years before. This song was one of his most popular ones.

George would remember that song more than a year later, on the 26:th of July 1829, when he was invited to the unveiling of a bust of Bellman, out in an outskirt of Stockholm called 'Djurgården', which Emilia translated as 'animal farm'.

There had been many hundreds of people present at that unveiling, perhaps even many thousands. Most of Stockholm seemed to be there. There were all kinds of people, the richer ones coming in their carriages, the poorer ones on foot, carrying picnic baskets and bottles of wine or beer.

Even the Swedish king and crown prince had been present at the unveiling, arriving there riding on horses. The poet's widow and son had been present as well.

There had been drinking and singing of Bellman's songs till well after midnight, long after most of the noble guests had left. It had all been nice and peaceful, much to George's surprise, with so many intoxicated Swedes assembled in the same place.

...

On Christmas Eve George had thought the Swedes had a very peculiar notion of what was suitable to sing on a happy occasion like that. This was most certainly not a Christmas Carol. But then again, Christmas wasn't called Christmas at all in Sweden, it was called 'jul', the old heathen word.

What he was invited to here was more like a Yule-blot than a Christmas dinner.

...

When the children had got their food and their gifts and were asleep in one of the spare rooms, the real drinking started. The 'brännvin' was taken from the cupboard in the corner, filled into small glasses and handed out to every-one who wanted one, men and women alike. Emilia translated it as 'snaps', although George didn't really need a translation to know what it was. Emilia didn't want any, her pregnancy made her feel sick enough as it was.

It seemed that everything in Sweden had to be done to music, at least drinking alcohol.

"Helan går", George's future family sang.

"What is it you are singing? Hell and gore?" George asked with a bewildered air.

Emilia laughed.

"No, of course not", she said. "It means 'The whole one goes'."

That didn't make things clearer to George. "Why?" was all he was able to ask.

"Because when you drink your first glass, it is all the alcohol you have in your stomach. The next strophe is 'Halvan går' which means 'The half one goes". Because when you drink that down you already have one glass in your stomach, so that second one is only half of the total amount. And the next one is about the third going and so on."

The Swedes obviously had a fondness for mathematics, George thought.

"How many verses are there?" he asked worriedly.

"Oh, I guess you can sing it for ever. But the thing is you are not really able to do that. Because you have to drink a glass for every verse. So it usually ends naturally, when no one can drink any more or remembers which verse to sing."

There was more text than this in the song, but George decided he didn't need to have it all translated. This was obviously no poetical masterpiece, after all.

The women stopped drinking after a couple of glasses and a couple of verses from the song. But the men continued, singing and drinking, singing and drinkiing again. George felt that he had to keep up with those three gigantic Swedes, who were constantly filling up his glass. After his fourth glass, and the fourth verse of the song, he couldn't care less what they were singing about. He tried to say something friendly to his future father-in-law, but he didn't know what language he was using, and it didn't really matter anyway, because his tongue was sliding around in his mouth in the same way he was sure his feet would do if he would try to stand on them.

After the first few drinks, Emilia saw that her father and brothers were taking turns drinking, only one or two of them drank every time, the others let their glasses be when George was emptying his, and then fastly pretended that they had filled them up again.

"My poor darling!" she thought. She found her father's and brothers' behaviour awful. Even if they were to drink as much as George did, they still had the advantage of being bigger, older and more used to the Swedish snaps. But Emilia didn't dare to warn George. She didn't want to irritate her father any further. She knew he was still angry with her for getting pregnant in that thoughtless way.

But after the fifth drink or so she noticed that George unintentionally started playing a similar trick on them. His hand was so unsteady by then that most of his drinks landed outside his mouth, on his napkin and clothes, or on the floor.

...

When George was back in his room late that evening, after throwing up most of the snaps and parts of the food on the snow in the gutter on his way home, he was very close to tears. What had he let himself into?

His head was muddled, his mouth dry, his clothes reeking of snaps and even worse things he didn't want to think about. He loved Emilia, he loved her very much, more and more every time he met her. But her father and brothers were a little bit too much.

And the snaps had tasted absolutely terrible, not like the brandy and whiskey and punch he was used to from England. No wonder they swallowed it in one gulp!

The Swedish food had also been horrible. Well, he was invited to a real English Christmas dinner at the legation tomorrow. It was just as good that he was hungry.

...

George would have felt happier if he had known that he had been tested, and still happier if he had known that he had passed the test.

"Well, Emilia, I don't think you have chosen so poorly after all!" Henrik Gyllenstråk said to his daughter before going to bed. "I like it when a man as young as that can hold his drink."

Emilia gave her father an irritated smirk. She hadn't liked the way he and her brothers had filled George to the brim with alcohol. But she didn't say anything.

"Especially a foreigner", Henrik added, and then he went to get some sleep. They were all going up early the next morning to go to church for 'julottan', the early Christmas Day service, at six o'clock.

They weren't complete heathens, after all.

...

AN: Thank you for reading! Please tell me what you think!

I have to warn you - this is a story, not a history book. I wrote this exaggerated description of a Swedish Christmas mostly for fun, although the details are mainly accurate. I didn't live then and haven't bothered to look it all up, so I don't know if they had these customs then. But all food mentioned is traditional on a Swedish Christmas dinner, and quite popular among an older generation of Swedes even today or at least twenty years ago. I hated that soaked bread when I was little, but haven't had it since.

The first written mentioning of the song 'Helan går' is from 1843, but I assume that this little gem of Swedish tradition has been sung long before that, so I don't feel anachronistic in using it here.

Everything I say about Carl Michael Bellman, his songs and his bust is true. Or at least taken from written sources.

Swedes sometimes sing Bellman's songs, as well as 'Helan går', at parties, but as far as I know never at Christmas. I guess the Gyllenstråks do it just to show George some Swedish culture!


	52. Interlude: Lady Edith, 1920 and before

During Lady Edith Strallan's wedding night, when she lay for so many hours on her sleeping husband's shoulder, waiting for him to wake up, she had time to think about all the things that had happened between the two of them over the years.

...

Edith had been almost nineteen years old the day in August 1913 when her mother had invited Sir Anthony Strallan to a dinner party. When Edith got out of bed that morning, she was feeling unusually happy. She was looking forward to sitting down at table as an adult with Sir Anthony for the first time in her life. She hoped her mother would place Sir Anthony beside Edith, but even if she didn't Edith was sure of being able to exchange some words with him. Edith had heard it said that the very kind and quite handsome Sir Anthony was at long last ready again to form an attachment with a woman, all these many years after the tragical death of Maud, his first wife, and Thomas, their little newborn son.

Edith had talked to Daisy, the kitchen maid, that morning. O'Brian had been concerned about her, so Edith had agreed to talk to the girl. Daisy had told Edith the strangest tale. Apparently the girl had seen three distant figures carrying the dead body of the Turkish diplomat from Mary's bedroom back to his own. Edith couldn't really believe this, surely Daisy must have had some strange nightmare! Sometimes dreams could be very vivid and feel almost like reality, Edith knew that.

Because it was just too unbelievable. Mary was flirting with everyone and caring for no one. She wasn't the kind of woman to fall recklessly in love with someone she hardly knew, she was surely able to keep her head cool. Of course Mary wouldn't risk her reputation by sleeping with a foreigner!

...

Edith had dressed faster than usual that evening, perhaps because she was so anxious not to be late, since she longed so much to meet Sir Anthony. So Sybil wasn't ready yet when Edith went to Mary's room, where the sisters usually met up on their way down to dinner or other events.

Edith noticed that Mary's door was ajar, and when she came closer she heard voices from within. It was her mother who was talking to Mary. So Edith stopped short, she didn't want to interrupt them. She didn't want to eavesdrop either, but that was the effect. Because the first thing she heard her mother say shook her up.

"I'd like you to look after Sir Anthony Strallan tonight!" were the words her mother said to Mary. So Sir Anthony was yet another of these poor men that her mother insisted in inviting to court Mary. Mary mistreated them all, at best she flirted and played with them for an hour or two and then tossed them away.

Edith didn't want Sir Anthony to be exposed to Mary's cold-heartedness. He was such a kind and loving man. He and his late wife had loved each other so dearly. Maud had been a woman with a heart, not like Mary who didn't care about anyone but herself. And Maud had been so very kind to Edith when Edith was a little girl. Edith felt she must find a way to save Sir Anthony from her wicked and selfish sister. For his sake, for Maud's sake and for Edith's own sake.

"He's a nice, decent man", Edith heard her mother say. That was true enough, Edith thought.

"Mama, not again!" Mary said with indignation. "How many times am I to be ordered to marry the man sitting next to me at dinner?"

"As many times as it takes." Edith could hear that Mama was very serious about this.

"I turned down Matthew Crawley. Is it likely I would marry Strallan when I wouldn't marry him?"

"I'm glad you've come to think more highly of cousin Matthew." Mama sounded happily surprised by that.

Edith didn't really like to listen to all of this, but she didn't know what else she could do either. It was already too late to knock at the door and announce her presence. And she was interested in what more they would say about Sir Anthony.

"That is not the point", Mary said.

"No", their mother agreed. "The point is that when you refused Matthew you were the daughter of an earl, with an unsullied reputation. Now, you are damaged goods."

Edith's jaw dropped. What was this? What was it Mama was saying to Mary? Unsullied reputation? Damaged goods? What was that all about?

"Mama!" Mary sounded really indignant.

"Somehow, I don't know how, there is a rumour in London that you are not virtuous."

"What! Does Papa know about this?"

"He knows it and he dismisses it, because unlike you and me he doesn't know that it is true."

Mama was quiet for a while before she continued.

"Let's hope it is just unkind gossip, because if anyone heard about..."

"Kemal. My lover? Kemal Pamuk."

"Exactly. If it gets around and you are not already married every door in London will be slammed in your face."

So what Daisy had told Edith in the morning was true! Edith was stunned. Pamuk had really died in Mary's bed! Freezing to death, no doubt, Edith thought. How incredible, Mary was a slut, a real slut! Who would have believed that?

"Mama! The world is changing", Mary said.

"Not that much, and not fast enough for you."

"I know you mean to help, I know you love me. But I also know what I am capable of. And forty years of boredom and duty just isn't possible for me. I'm sorry."

So that was what Mary thought a marriage to Sir Anthony would be like! Well, Edith wasn't at all surprised. Mary had a very shallow way of looking at a man's advantages.

"I'm a lost cause, Mama. Leave me to manage my own affairs! Why not concentrate on Edith?" Mary said then.

For once Edith agreed with Mary. Why couldn't their mother set Edith up with Sir Anthony instead? She would at least be interested in talking to him, he was a nice man and capable of tenderness and love. Who knew what that might lead to in the long run?

"She needs all the help she can get!" Mary added. Well, perhaps, Edith had to admit. She wouldn't mind if she got half of all the help Mary got from their mother when it came to finding a husband. But right now she only wanted one thing. To be the one that her mother thought should 'look after Sir Anthony Strallan'.

Perhaps Edith should do just that during the dinner tonight, even if she was sure now that she wouldn't be placed at his side.

"You mustn't be unkind to Edith, she has fewer advantages than you", Edith heard her mother say then.

"Fewer! She has none at all!" Mary said. Their mother didn't even try to deny that, Edith felt terribly let down. That had been the last words Edith heard before she turned and went away, tears filling her eyes. She was only eighteen years old and even her own mother regarded her as a failure, and seemed to expect her to end up as an old maid.

Edith saw a flash of herself as the maiden aunt, after her parents' death. Depending on her married sisters, trying to make herself useful. Sybil was kind but the thought of ever being dependent on Mary sent cold chills through her body.

...

After the dinner that night, when Edith returned to her own room early because she didn't want anyone to see the tears that had started rising in her eyes again, Edith decided to use the knowledge she had gained by overhearing that conversation. She just couldn't leave poor Sir Anthony in Mary's treacherous claws.

Edith was only eighteen years at the time, and she had wanted to protect the kind and friendly Sir Anthony from Mary's manipulations. But Edith had been cruel to Mary, sending that letter. She realised that now, thinking back on it on her wedding night when she was so much older.

Edith had only told the truth. But Mary had revenged by _lying_ to Sir Anthony, who was totally innocent in the matter and probably had been more hurt by Mary's lies than Edith herself. But still, by now Edith understood that it had been very bad of her to send that letter.

...

That dinner had been both very dreadful and very nice. Mary had behaved horribly towards Sir Anthony. First she had ignored everything the poor man said, making it quite obvious both to him and everyone else that she wasn't a bit interested in him. Later Mary had been laughing at the poor man when he got that bit of salty dessert.

But Edith had managed to talk to Sir Anthony, she had made an attempt to make him feel more comfortable. It had been very nice, it seemed that there was a lot of things that the two of them were both interested in. And Edith's mother had even praised Edith afterwards, at the coffee, for looking after Sir Anthony. Edith had said that she had enjoyed it, which was true. There was something in having his kind blue eyes fixed upon her while he was talking and smiling that touched something deep inside her. Perhaps it was then that she slowly started to fall in love with him.

Edith had felt elated, but she hadn't wanted to irritate Mary, so she had got up from her seat and gone to the other end of the room. But Mary was not the one to let somebody else have a man she herself didn't want. She had followed Edith complaining about Edith's boasting.

It was then Edith had made her big mistake, telling Mary she couldn't have every prize. So Mary had made that challenge. And Edith had been foolish enough to accept it.

Sir Anthony was only a man, and as such he was of course incapable of resisting Mary's beautiful but insincere smile. Edith had been defeated, as could have been expected.

Late the evening after that Edith had written that letter to the embassy. She felt that she had to save the kind Sir Anthony.

...

Her husband was asleep again. Lady Edith Strallan looked at his sleeping face on the pillow, herself still not able to close her eyes. It was the morning of the day after their wedding, and she wasn't a virgin any longer. There was no end to the tenderness and love she felt for that dear, sleeping man.

She felt her whole body glowing. There was not an inch he hadn't touched with his hand or his lips. Or both. She felt so alive, so loved, so wanted. So relaxed and so satisfied. So very much his.

...

When she had told him with a smile that their wedding-night wasn't over yet, he had smiled back at her. But it was a quick, embarrassed smile. Then he looked away.

"Well...Edith...first I need to...I have been sleeping for so long... and I had so much to drink... all that toasting...so I must..." He wasn't able to say it straight out, but of course she knew what he was talking about, she was feeling the need herself. She found it very cute that he should talk about this simple and quite normal thing in such a shy and delicate way, like if he was afraid of shocking her.

"Yes, of course. I need to go to the loo also. Especially since we are going to ... well... use... need...those parts... to make love..." She was giving him a new mischievous smile.

He laughed at her outspokenness. He was surprised but also glad that she wasn't more shy. It was good, it would make it so much easier. He didn't have to guess what she wanted. That she probably was a virgin was one of the many things that had worried him. Maud hadn't been, she was a widow when she married Anthony, so he had no experience of that.

"This time I think I can promise you to come back", he said before he left. "And if I don't, you know where to find me." His smile was happier now, and it warmed her heart.

Of course he came back. She came back too. But she lingered some extra moments, composing herself. Because now it was to happen, the thing she had both longed for and dreaded all her youth. By now her longing was so much stronger than her fear. Because it would be with _him_, and she loved him so much and he was such a kind and considerate man. But she could well understand that he had felt the need to lay down and compose himself for a few moments earlier that night.

She was a little afraid of disappointing him.

She wasn't afraid of being disappointed herself. She knew for sure that this would be good. He was a wonderful man, so sweet and so thoughtful and so caring.

She had butterflies in her belly when she returned to him. But they were happy butterflies. And after thinking it all over there was just one thing she was still afraid of now, and it was not disappointing him. Because he was a kind man, and he would know how inexperienced she was and make amends for that.

No, the only thing she was still afraid of was that he would think that _he_ had disappointed _her_.

...

He had gone about it all in a very gentle and careful way, full of apologies. In a very Anthony kind of way. Telling her she could stop him any time at all. If he hurt her or if he scared her. He really hated the thought of hurting her.

She had told him that there was no way he could scare her. She knew he was the kindest man she had ever met. And a short pain - it was probably what was to be expected - she wouldn't mind that or love him any less for that.

After that Anthony started to kiss her and fondle her. And she had answered him - of course she had - she had kissed him back, she had caressed him, she had pressed her body closer to him. Then they had slowly started taking off each other's clothes, all the time wispering sweet words to each other.

Edith's body had also answered Anthony in ways she couldn't control.

She had been letting out low moans when he traced kisses from her mouth to her neckline. She had shivered of pleasure when he caressed her breasts and other places he hadn't touched before. She had gasped when she felt his naked body against her own for the first time. And after that, when his hand reached her female parts and started exploring them, she had let out the other moans, the not so low ones.

He was touching and caressing things that would have made her blush to have him examining if she hadn't been so aroused. Making her ready to receive him. Making sure she was ready to receive him.

So when he finally entered into her, it didn't hurt at all. It was such a strange feeling to have him inside her. She felt so complete. So filled up. So fulfilled.

She really belonged to him now, and he really belonged to her. At last.

He stopped like that for some moments, looking down on her to see that she was OK. She smiled up at him then, she felt so very shy. So naked, so aroused, so connected to him and so shy. He smiled back, the most tender of all the tender smiles he had ever given her.

"I love you so much, my little darling", he said then, very softly.

Then he kissed her, the softest kiss, while leaning down on his arm. She opened her mouth to receive him and his tongue entered, mirroring what was happening further down.

And then he started moving...

And somewhere in that fog of desire she knew why she had fought for this man for so long and against everybody else's wish, including his. And she was so happy she had, for his sake as well as her own. He was such a wonderful man, he made her so happy. She so wanted to make him happy too!

...

He had fallen asleep almost immediately afterwards, holding his good arm around her and whispering sweet nothings that were slowly replaced by a calm, even breathing. She was feeling so grownup, lying here in bed with her husband after making love to him for the first time.

And in a few hours she would go to Rome with him. As a married woman with her new husband. What an adventure!

And soon she would get plenty more of what she had just got.

Life was truly wonderful, at last!

She was so terribly, terribly happy!

...

AN: I apologize for having you wait until chapter 52 for the Edith/Anthony wedding night pleasure. Hope you are not too disappointed with it after waiting for so long!

...

Thank you for reading, thank you for reviewing! I don't get many reviews to this story any longer, so I appreciate every one I get all that much more.

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The Cora-Mary conversation is taken almost exactly from the show. (Thank you Julian Fellowes!) I assume in my story that Edith heard most of it.

...

I have already written about that salty pudding dinner from Sir Anthony's point of view in my story 'Raspberries with Salt'. I reread that story now and think it could very well be an interlude to this one. But it won't, I hate repeating things, but maybe I use a few things from it later on.

...

According to some quick google-research, the word loo was probably first used by James Joyce in 1922, and this is 1920. But I don't care, it is near enough for me. Besides, it is easier to come up with a word a little too early than to build a whole telegraph line between two continents, as I did in an earlier chapter.


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